


A New Start

by coffeepot



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Gen, Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 16:56:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 33,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeepot/pseuds/coffeepot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Midwest-native Emilie uses her rough break-up to start over and move to London to gain work experience, but gets much more than she bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter, hooray! No Ben this chapter, soon :)  
> Most of the characters are based on people I know, with names altered obviously.  
> I'll continue to update whenever possible, and will continue the story until I have a satisfying ending.

Emilie sighed, tossing the most recent rejection letter she’d received onto her growing pile.

_At least they have the courtesy to notify me they don’t want me…_

The job search for a teaching position was not going as well as she’d hoped. Having just finished her student teaching, she thought she would be a perfect candidate for the second grade position that would be opening up in the fall. Unfortunately, so did fifty other applicants. Half of whom had much more experience. Thus leaving her in the vicious "no experience but can't get a job to gain experience" circle.

The months had gone on, and it seemed like she had interviewed at a hundred different schools for a job. The interviews had gone well, and the administrators had seemed genuinely interested, but she would always exit the interview and spot at least five others waiting in the office. The job market was scarce.

She was at least lucky her old daycare center gave her a part time job heading the afterschool program, but only 15 hours a week was slowly starting to eat away at her savings. She had put her name in to substitute at several other school districts, but it was inconsistent.

Emilie picked up her phone and dialed a number.

“Hello?” Her fiancé Alex picked up after several rings, sounding slightly harried.

“Hey..” She said softly, somewhat hoping her crushing disappointment wasn’t too obvious.

“Uh-oh. Did you get another letter?”

“Yeah, another ‘We need someone with more experience, please feel free to apply for substitute position…’ et cetera, et cetera. I’ve got another interview tomorr-“

“Yeah, listen babe, I’m swamped here and really need to go. I’ll bring home something tonight, okay?”

Emilie was tempted to ask him for just one more minute, and gulped back the sudden prickle of tears that stung her eyes.

“Yeah, love you.” But he had already hung up.

Emilie sat on the couch for a long time in silence; her head on the back of the couch and eyes closed. The job hunt hadn’t been the only stress on her mind for the last few months. Alex had proposed last June, it was now late April. There were no signs of them setting a date or begin planning their wedding. Emilie hadn’t even thought about looking for a dress.

For a while she had simply written it off as Alex starting a new job over the summer and her student teaching in the fall. But slowly the doubt began to build in her mind over if either of them really wanted to get married. They had been together for two years as of August, and they had an apartment together. It was the logical next step.

Their lack of motivation to actually plan when they would become husband and wife was starting to get the attention of their families. Her parents would always ask if they even had an idea of when it might happen, and Alex’s mother kept suggesting dates to them. They would simply smile and brush it off, giving a weak excuse of Emilie’s student teaching and his demanding job.

* * *

 

It was nearly seven when Alex walked through the door with the takeout. Emilie ate in silence, Alex apparently had eaten leftovers at the office. He was sitting on the couch playing his Xbox when Emilie’s text message alert went off. On her way into the kitchen to retrieve her cell phone the alert went off again with another message.

The first one was from her best friend Kara, in response to Emilie’s earlier text about not getting a job yet again.

**Boo…Come out tonight! Ian stopped texting me so we both have reasons to get shitfaced.**

Emilie smiled, and read the next text message, letting out a light gasp of delight when she realized who it was from.

**Hey, it’s Colin. Got a new number and I’m in town for a few days. Drinks tonight? Bring Kara if she’s around. Miss you.**

An hour later Emilie met Kara and Colin at a bar, Alex having claimed to need more sleep that night, so she left him at home with the promise to call him when she needed a ride. She was greeted with a shot of Rumplemintz from Kara and a firm hug and kiss on the cheek from Colin.

“How’s Paris?” Emilie asked him. He had been there since August studying abroad, and had recently decided to stay an extra year (because why not). He smirked.

“Amazing, I don’t even know how to describe it. The food, the culture, you would love it. Even though you can’t speak any French.”

Kara snorted, “Oh big guy, back from Europe and now he thinks he’s all cultured. You’re still that guy that wore a Buddha necklace with his shoulder length hair flapping in the wind to me.” This made Emilie burst out laughing, recalling the memory.

“Don’t forget the ‘Jesus is my homeboy’ shirt and the velvet blazer!” She chimed in. Colin visibly colored and shook his head. “You guys will never let that go, will you?”

Both girls shook their head, laughing.

Eventually the conversation led to Emilie’s career (or lack thereof). Kara and Colin listened sympathetically to her recounting the dismal job market.

“You should move,” Kara said. Emilie had thought about this already, even brought it up to Alex. He did not like the idea of moving out of central Iowa for whatever reason. He had shot down Emilie’s ideas to apply for positions in eastern Iowa, closer to her parents.

“Where would I go? It’s not likely anywhere else in Iowa or even other states have a severe shortage of teachers.” Emilie sighed, taking a rather large gulp of her drink. Colin was watching her.

“What about Europe?” He asked.

Emilie chuckled, “Asking me to move to Paris, are you? French girls aren’t as interesting as me?” Colin shook his head seriously, “No, I mean Britain. The UK isn’t the only place, either if you don’t care to go there. Since you already have the degree you'd be set to just apply for a QTS there without any extra work. And the job market in London is a little better than here.”

Before Emilie could respond Kara was pushing another shot into their hands. By the smell of pure gasoline Emilie knew it was 151. She and Colin shook their heads; it would be a difficult morning.

* * *

 

A few weeks later (as well as plenty of interviews and still no permanent job) Emilie got an email from Colin with websites to apply for a QTS. 

Slowly the idea of moving out of country began to grow. At the end of May, Emilie brought it up to Alex, which began a fight.

“That’s stupid. You’re just giving up. You really think moving out of the country will be better somehow?”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Europe, and they pay pretty well. You could even come too and get a job, it would only be for a maximum of a year then we could come back! Who knows if we like I could renew my visa and stay longer.”

Alex shook his head, “I don’t want to though.”

“What about what I want? I mean, it could be great for us to get out of the country, just you and me. It would be great for us. We could even see about getting married over there, or something.” She smiled, but Alex’s face suddenly fell at the mention of a wedding. Emilie noticed.

“What?”

The next few hours ran by in a blur. He confessed to a tryst with a coworker, on the same night she had gone out with Colin and Kara. There was yelling, mostly on Emilie’s end, and a lot of crying, again mostly from Emilie.

Eventually it all came out.

 Alex had been having doubts since November on whether or not Emilie was the one for him.

_We hardly communicate._

_Our interests are barely the same._

He had stopped himself in January from doing anything with the woman, but he said he eventually couldn't deny the feelings he had for Melanie. Melanie. Her name was Melanie.

Emilie had met her at Alex’s Christmas party and had found her nice, but a bit too flirty (or slutty). Even though Emilie had been having her own doubts about her and Alex, she definitely still loved him. She'd never felt so betrayed.

Finally, she packed a bag and left her ring on the kitchen table, telling Alex she would come by when he wasn’t home to move out.

The next day, Emilie put in her application for a visa and her QTS qualification and began to hunt for a flatshare in London.

* * *

 

The summer went by in a blur. She found a small apartment for herself and moved out of her and Alex’s apartment as quickly as possible with Kara's help (whom she had to very nearly restrain from breaking all of the things that belonged to him). She worked full time at the daycare with the school age kids. Being around them helped lift her spirits, but only slightly. She completely abandoned her art; leaving the supplies in a box at the back of a closet. Most nights in June she cried herself to sleep, sober or completely plastered. The one saving grace was that Kara had stayed nearby to be Emilie's companion and shoulder to cry on. The wound slowly healed. At the end of July, Emilie went entire days without feeling the need to cry, though the betrayal was still on her mind.

Before she knew it, it was August, and she was in London.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might not get updated as much as I'd like, but for now I feel motivated :)

Emilie was pleasantly surprised at how much she liked London. Sure, it _was_ only three weeks since she had arrived and she barely knew the city, but she often found herself smiling when she woke up to the sounds of the city outside her window. 

It was on a particularly rainy morning after she had gone for coffee when she decided it was time to get back in her running routine. Over the summer she had written off a lot of things, this included running and regular meals. 

Even though it was raining she was determined to go for a run. She pulled on some running capris and a light zip jacket, pulling her wavy blonde hair into a pony tail. When she entered the living room she found her roommate Molly sprawled on the couch. She looked up when Emilie entered, “You’re going running? In this?”

“Yeah, it’s been a while and for once I feel motivated. It’s only a little rain.”

“Ah, well. Have fun," she said with a lazy wave. Molly understood Emilie’s lack of motivation. They had both spilled their past to one another at a pub one of the first nights Emilie was in London. She'd never expected to have a flatmate like Molly, but one of Emilie's friends had a cousin who had another cousin that lived in London, and just so happened to need a roommate.

"Back in a bit," she called over her shoulder.

Emilie ran for a surprisingly long time, much longer than she thought she could. Her mind played over the last few months: her breakup with Alex, her acceptance of her application to teach internationally, and even her sister’s announcement that she was expecting baby number two. Now that she really thought about it she felt like she had not given the good things that had happened to her enough credit. True, the breakup had been completely heart wrenching and the thought of it still made her chest ache. But since her sister’s announcement and moving away from Iowa she found herself thinking less and less of Alex. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried about it.

However, today she thought of him as she ran through the park. The anger that boiled up inside of her fueled her adrenaline and she found herself running much faster, no longer paying attention to her surroundings. Before she knew it she was back on the street. Only…she didn’t know what street.

_Shit._

She wasn’t even sure if she could navigate her way back the way she came.

_Ughhh, wonderful. I don’t even have Molly’s number memorized._

She stood on the sidewalk, thinking about what she should do before deciding asking for directions was really the only way since she had no cab fare or her oyster card.

She paced back and forth for a moment.  The people in London were decidedly nicer than the people in the bigger cities she had visited in the U.S., but the thought of asking a stranger for directions still made her feel awkward.

It was when she turned around again that she crashed into something solid. The unexpected obstacle threw her off balance and she (quite ungracefully) fell onto the wet pavement. It took her a moment to realize someone was talking to her and she was still on the ground.

“Oh, god. I’m so sorry,” the very masculine voice said; “I didn’t expect you to turn around so suddenly!”

Emilie sighed, “No it’s my fault, I’m lost and clearly have no spatial awareness or regard for others.” She looked up to find a tall, handsome man with an apologetic look on his face. She took his hand, which was remarkably warm and he lifted her up with ease. She brushed off her pants and her now wet bottom. She then noticed a recently emptied (spilled) coffee cup lying on the ground.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for you to spill your coffee. God I am an idiot.” She felt truly terrible now, especially since she had no way to buy him another one. He chuckled lightly. “It’s no problem, I can get another. Do you fancy a cup?”

Emilie was a little taken aback. The man must have read the look on her face because he smiled. His face was oddly familiar to her. Emilie was suddenly very happy she had put on a bit of makeup before going to get coffee that morning.

“Oh I couldn’t, I feel bad enough already…” She started, but the man shook his head.

“Please, I insist. You said you’re lost? If you have a coffee with me I’ll give you directions.” He smiled and outstretched his hand. “My name is Benedict."  The name rang somewhere deep in her brain; familiar.

 

Emilie took his hand and shook it lightly, “Emilie.” The brief eye contact with him made Emilie heart jump unexpectedly.

“So, you’re American then?” Benedict asked her as they sipped their coffee on a park bench. Emilie nodded smiling lightly, “Iowa.”

“Ah, so what made you move here then?” He asked.

“Oh well, I graduated in December and this opportunity...sort of presented itself to teach here.” She was hesitant to include many details.

Benedict raised his eyebrows, “You’re a teacher?” Emilie nodded.

Their conversation continued, discussing Emilie’s choice of career. Eventually her answer for why she chose education boiled down to: “If it feels like work then I don’t think I would be happy. Every time I teach I genuinely enjoy the challenge.” Benedict nodded in agreement.

“So what do you do?” Emilie asked, her question was returned with an odd sort of look on Benedict’s part. Immediately Emilie’s mind went to the worst/weirdest. Stripper, hitman, male escort…

“Well, I’m an actor.”  Not weird.

“Ohh interesting, what kind of work have you done?” Emilie asked, trying to remember if she had seen him in anything. He did look vaguely familiar. Benedict took another sip of his coffee before answering.

“Most recently...I was in Star Trek.” Emilie nearly choked. Her face immediately felt hot.

“You? Christ. I cannot believe I didn’t recognize Khan.” She slapped her hand to her forehead, genuinely embarrassed. She always figured she would recognize someone famous if she saw them in public. Evidently not.

“I take it I was a convincing villain then for you to not recognize me on the street?”

“Well you certainly aren’t as menacing. I really am sorry. God, this is not my day. First I run into you and make you spill your coffee and then I don’t even recognize you as the big actor you are…” She half expected Benedict to look offended when she looked up at him, but he had a pleasant smile on his face. She relaxed a little and asked him about his coming projects. They continued to talk about his acting. Soon they both had finished their coffee.

“Well, I suppose I should fulfill my end of the bargain. Where can I take you?” Benedict asked, standing from the bench.

“Oh wow, I’ve really bothered you enough today; it’s ok if you just give me directions.”

“No please, I insist. Just tell me your address.” He was already walking back towards the street. Emilie followed, giving in and telling him. He hailed a cab and they rode in comfortable silence to her apartment, aside from Emilie occassionally breaking the silence to thank him. He exited the cab with her and walked her to her door.

"Well, thank you again, really.  I didn't mean to be such a bother. I'm sure I've left just the best impression of Americans on you," she joked, earning a soft chuckle from him.  He hesitated for a moment.

“Since you’ve been a bother to me today, would I be able to bother you for dinner next week?” He said smiling, pulling out his phone. Emilie programmed it in; Benedict made her swear it wasn’t a fake. They agreed on a day and time and he departed.

When she collapsed onto the couch next to Molly (she suspected the girl hadn’t moved for the two hours she’d been gone) she could not will the grin off her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure how to set up the meeting between Ben and Emilie. I think this worked?  
> I was originally going to have a paparazzi come and take photos of Ben while they were in the park, and have Emilie be like "Oh you're popular" before realizing who he actually is. But I think how it ended up might be a little better. You can imagine it either way :) End ramble.


	3. Chapter 3

The days before their dinner were filled with Emilie trying to watch as many movies and TV shows that featured Benedict. She was surprised at how much she enjoyed his acting. He seemed to genuinely enjoy his work.

Molly eventually noticed Emilie’s recent choices in entertainment.

“He’s been on our telly quite a bit lately. Have a bit of a crush do we?” She asked one night during an episode of _Sherlock_. Emilie had not told her about meeting him; frankly she didn’t think Molly would believe her.

“He’s really talented…” Emilie said. Her roommate snorted, shaking her head, “Right, and I watched _Magic Mike_ to admire Channing Tatum’s acting.”

“Well, it’s actually been research…” Emilie started. Molly looked at her, puzzled. 

“Remember when I went running while it was raining and was gone for like two hours?” Molly nodded, “Well. I ran into someone. Literally. We got to chatting and he ended up asking me out.” 

Molly’s eyebrows raised, “So is he a huge Cumberbatch fan? That’s…nice.”

“No…” Emilie laughed a little, “It is...him.”

Molly stared at her for a long moment, before bursting out laughing, “Is that what he told you? Oh darling, was he wearing a deerstalker hat as well? Did he drive a Jaguar?! Ah ha ha!” Molly found this much more amusing than Emilie did.

She let her settle down before continuing, “No, it really is him… we have a dinner date Friday.” Molly wiped away a tear, still chuckling.

“Yeah, ok. We’ll see. Can I get his autograph? Maybe we can all share a cuppa before you head out.”

* * *

 

Before she knew it, it was Friday and Emilie was running around their apartment trying to get ready before Benedict arrived.  Molly had not stopped poking fun at Emilie since she had told her about her date with the actor.

“Can you have him do a Sherlock deduction about me? Oh! No! No! Before we leave he HAS to say ‘Shall we begin?’ in his Khan voice!” Molly barked out laughter. “Oh wow. What else? What else?” The only reason Emilie had not retaliated by putting flour in the girl’s blow dryer is that she knew she would be proven wrong soon enough.

It took her a good half hour to decide what to wear. It had been a while since she’d been on a first date. _Over two years_ _,_ her head reminded her. She didn’t want to be too formal, but she would feel terrible if he was more dressed up than she was. She thought about ringing him to see what the plans were. Eventually she just decided on a simple flowy skirt with a complimenting top, reasoning that it was versatile enough for whatever their night would entail.

Benedict buzzed her apartment right on time. Emilie went down to meet him. His face broke out into a wide smile when he saw her. “You look stunning,” he bent down and kissed her cheek. “Ready?”

Emilie paused, “Umm, actually would you mind if we ran upstairs for a second? I'd like you to meet my roomate,” Benedict agreed.

When they reached her apartment Emilie threw open the door. Molly was mid-process of getting ready to go out for the night, so her black hair was up in rollers and her makeup was only partially completed.

“Molly? This is Benedict.” Emilie gestured to the tall handsome man behind her. Benedict stepped through the door, giving Molly a warm smile. Molly’s face blanched; her mouth slightly agape.

“Nice to meet you Molly.” Benedict said, walking over with his hand outstretched. Molly took it limply before remembering she could speak.

“Uh, yeah. Likewise.” She looked back and forth between Benedict and Emilie, who was having difficult time not giggling. She could not, however, stop the grin from forming on her lips.

“Should we head out now?” Emilie asked, looking up at Benedict. He nodded before turning to Molly, “I promise to bring her back at a reasonable time.” Then he winked.

“I take it she didn’t believe you when you told her we had met?” Benedict asked in the cab.

Emilie smiled slightly, “Yeah, she thought I was delusional, I had to prove her wrong. I hope you didn’t mind?” Benedict smiled, “Not at all.” They made more small talk before arriving at the restaurant. Benedict came round the car and opened the door for her, offering Emilie his hand. The skin to skin contact when she reached for it made her heart skip and her mouth break into a shy smile.

“Are you okay with Italian? I thought it was the most agreeable choice, until I get to know your preferences.” He smiled down at her as they entered the restaurant. Emilie nodded lightly, “Yeah, it’s perfect.” 

_Getting to know my preferences?_

He kept his hand on the small of her back as they were led to their table, breaking the contact to pull out her chair for her. Before returning to his own seat he gave her shoulder a small squeeze. Emilie opened her menu and began deciding on her meal, when she looked up she noticed Benedict watching her with a small smile. She blushed.

“So, how do you like London?” He asked as he poured wine into their glasses. Emilie took a small sip before answering. “It’s certainly different, but in a good way. I needed the change.”

Benedict nodded, “You said you were from the Midwest? Iowa?” She nodded.

Their conversation continued, each of them talking about their respective childhoods, where they grew up, where they went to school, and once more the conversation turned to their careers.

“I was going to be a barrister, I don’t think my parents were too fond of the idea of me getting into this business,” Benedict chuckled. “But I don’t really see myself doing anything else.” Emilie nodded sympathetically, “I know what you mean.”

“So, what’s your favorite part of teaching?”

Emilie sipped her wine and thought for a moment, “I would suppose it would be the ‘light bulb’ moments. When the child understands what I’m teaching and they just want to keep showing you more. I never feel more accomplished than when I know I’ve just made a difference.” She paused. “Children are also really amusing.”  Benedict nodded in agreement.

“So, be honest, you really weren’t the least bit offended that I didn’t recognize you?” Emilie asked. It had been nagging at her since they’d met.

Benedict shook his head, chuckling lightly. “Of course not. It’s so hard to actually connect with people lately, it was humbling.”

“I have to be honest, I spent the last few days watching some of your work.”

Benedict raised an eyebrow, “And?”

“You're amazing, really. And I swear I’m not just saying that. I could tell you genuinely love what you’re doing.” Emilie said, noticing Benedict look significantly less nervous.

Their conversation flowed easily throughout dinner, both of them smiling and laughing the entire time. By the time they finished their meals, their hands were laced with one another on the table.

“I’m sorry, but do you mind if we skip dessert? I have us on a bit of a schedule.” Benedict asked, to which Emilie smiled, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” He winked with a smile. They paid the bill and hailed a cab. They sat in comfortable silence with Benedict’s hand on hers, occasionally lifting her hand to his lips for a light kiss.

* * *

 

“Here we are,” He said as their cab came to a stop. Emilie looked up to see the London Eye lit up vibrantly against the night sky. It had been a wish of hers to take a ride since she had moved to London. She turned to Benedict and grinned, hoping she didn’t look too crazy with excitement.

Benedict held Emilie’s hand as they walked up to the wheel, gave their tickets, and entered the cab. She had always thought of her own hands as being slightly big for her body, but having his soft hand wrapped around hers made them feel tiny.

Benedict stood behind Emilie, wrapping his arms around her as the wheel began to lift them higher. Emilie “oo’ed” and “ahh’ed” at the London skyline, snuggling closer into Benedict’s arms. When they reached the top, she turned to him, the lights reflecting in her eyes. 

“It’s so beautiful, thank you for bringing me here,” she said, smiling up at him. He returned her smile, his hands on her waist. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered gently, caressing her cheek. Slowly, he lowered his lips to hers in a light kiss. She felt her heart flutter in a way that she hadn't felt in a long, long time.

After they returned to ground level, they walked slowly to the street with their hands linked. They cuddled one another in the cab, linking their hands together. When they arrived, Benedict walked her to her door.

“Thank you, this was great,” she said with a smile.  He smiled back, stepping in closer. “I’d love to see you again.” He said, giving her another light kiss. Emilie couldn’t resist, she placed one hand on the back of his neck and pulled him in for a deeper kiss. When they parted, her eyes fluttered open, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he said softly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, stupid obligations. They leave no time for writing.

“So, is he a good kisser? I would imagine with his lips he’d be either pretty great or positively dreadful.” Molly’s question over coffee the next day make Emilie choke with laughter on the scone she was nibbling on.

She finally answered when she recovered, “Um, well we haven’t really gotten that heated with kissing. But so far it’s good.”

“Really? I would have let him do whatever he wanted on our first date.” Molly said, taking a bite out of Emilie’s scone.

“Of course you would,” Emilie replied, dodging a bit of scone Molly sent flying her way.

* * *

 

The next few weeks proved difficult for Benedict and Emilie to be able to see one another, with the fall term starting for Emilie and Benedict promoting his latest movie. He texted between interviews, and she would respond when she had a free moment. There was the occasional phone call between them, which was always preceded with the “I don’t have much time” stipulation from one of them. But there was never a phone call under an hour.

 “Zoolander? Really?” Emilie giggled during one conversation. She had asked Benedict what his favorite movies were and had not expected that to be on the list.  She was entirely taken aback when he had named the Ben Stiller movie.

“It’s a hilarious movie!” He argued.

“Oh it is really funny. I agree with that. I just didn’t expect _that_ movie to be on your favorites list is all. Should we have a walk-off when I see you again?”

“Yes,” he laughed; “I’d love to see your model look. I bet it’s incredibly sexy.”

Emilie laughed nervously. “Yeah. That’s me alright. A straight up vixen. Especially right now in my glasses and no makeup.”

“You don’t think you’re beautiful?”

This was an easy question. Emilie had never considered herself ugly. She was what most would consider curvy; with a sizeable chest and womanly curves; she managed to keep herself in shape by mostly running. She had long blonde hair and a heart shaped face. Her skin became a pale ivory when not exposed to the sun; she considered it to be pasty. The one trait she’d always genuinely liked were the color of her eyes; a shade that waffled between blue and green. She never considered herself as extraordinary, “I just always thought of myself as average. I guess I’m satisfied with the way I look…” She trailed off. Benedict was quiet for a short second before: “I think you’re beautiful.”

“Oh… Well thank you. You’re not so bad yourself,” she laughed lightly.

“So when do I get to see your lovely face again?” He asked.

“Well, you are the one with the crazier schedule. It’s pretty safe to say a teacher’s schedule is pretty consistent.” 

“Well, I’ll be back by the weekend, how’s Saturday look for you?”

“Pretty vacant. I usually go for a run in the mornings then I’m free the rest of the day.”

“Good, I’m looking forward to our walk-off.”

Emilie laughed, “I look forward to your humiliation.”

* * *

 

Emilie awoke unusually early on Saturday, the sun wasn’t up, but the sky was a lovely shade of pink.  She put a kettle on and began making a small bit of breakfast, figuring she could go running a bit earlier than usual.

“You’re up early.” Molly’s voice behind her made Emilie yelp with surprise and drop the butter knife on the floor.

“Jesus! I could say the same for you! I thought you went out last night?”

“Yeah, I just got in. Never made it to bed,” she said, stretching her arms high above her head with a wink.

“Ah, another night with Devin?” Emilie chuckled, placing the knife in the sink and rummaging in the drawer for a new one.

“Oh yeah, he’s such a little lamb. So sweet. But in bed…” Molly trailed off with a sigh. Emilie smirked and raised an eyebrow, “So it’s decent then?”

“Well, I _did_ say I just got in... So, why are you up so early?” Her roommate asked, taking the kettle off the stove just as it began to whistle. Emilie finished buttering her toast before answering, “I’m seeing Benedict again today.”

Molly visibly straightened up, her dark eyebrows raising so high they were concealed by her bangs and a grin spread on her face, “Oh really? What is it you’ll be doing?”

“No idea, we didn’t even really set a time.”

"Ah," Molly said, "Well, I'm going to go sleep off my night seeing as how I don't have anything to do until tomorrow."

"Devin or the coffee shop-Ah!" Emilie yelled as Molly swatted at her.

Emilie departed shortly after that, wanting to get her run out of the way early. She took a familiar route; the same one she’d taken the day she’d met Benedict.  Despite already having been on one date with him, she was still in disbelief that she had actually met the famous actor.  It was the last thing she had ever expected to happen when she moved to London.

Adding to her astonishment over meeting Benedict was how much she enjoyed speaking with him. She felt a connection that she ashamedly hadn’t felt with anyone before, including Alex.

Every conversation left her eager to learn more about him. She had resolutely refused to dig for information on the internet, committed to learn about him as he revealed the details himself. 

Emilie smiled as she ran by the very spot where she had run into Benedict.  It took her a moment to realize someone had run out of the coffee shop and was yelling her name.

“Emilie! Emilie!” The voice was deep, and quite familiar.

_No. Way._

She spun on the spot, seeing the tall handsome man grinning as he jogged up to her with a coffee. 

“Oh my God, Ben!” She laughed in disbelief. He pulled her into a tight hug, but she reciprocated weakly.

“Sorry, I’m all sweaty,” she said, gesturing up and down her figure. She loathed herself for not being one of those girls that always put on makeup, especially for physical activity.

He chuckled, “It’s quite alright. I didn’t expect to see you. Are you lost again?” He joked.

“No, no.  Just out for a run. I take it you come here often?” She asked, gesturing to his cup.

He nodded, “It’s one of my favorite places.”

“Ah,” Emilie nods, finally catching her breath.

 “So are you still enjoying London?” He asked.

Emilie nodded, “I just wish I had more time to see it. I’m still getting confused every so often. Not really used to such a large city.”

“I can be your tour guide, I’m very knowledgeable of the city, you know,” he said with a wink and a ‘click’.

“I might have to take you up on that offer sometime.”

“Why not start today? I can show you some of my favorite spots in the city. You already know one of them.”

Emilie beamed at the idea of the fine-looking man giving her a tour, talking in his deep sensual voice.

“That sounds great.”

The run back to her apartment definitely took Emilie less time than before; she could not stop smiling.

* * *

 

A short time later, Benedict buzzed Emilie’s door. They elected to take a cab to their destination and stopped outside a small, cozy-looking diner.

“I visit here at least once a week when I’m back in London, but first thing’s first,” Benedict took them to a small corner convenience store next door where he plucked a map of London from a stand. He turned and handed it to her.

“In case you ever get lost again, I may not be standing around for you to run into” he says smirking.

She rolls her eyes, “Ha ha ha.” She pops him lightly in the head with the map before sticking it in her purse. It actualy would come in handy.

It took a great deal of convincing, but Benedict allowed her to pay for their lunch on the premise that he could pay for dinner. Throughout their meal they recounted their teenage years, and their age gap was suddenly obvious to Emilie. She had never thought twice about their difference in age, but the mention of their respective graduation years suddenly made her very self-conscious. He was nearly fourteen years her senior.

Benedict took notice of her sudden shift in attitude; the reason why not being lost on him.

“I knew we had a bit of an age difference when we first met and you mentioned just having graduated from university,” he said, reaching for her hand.

“I just… I don’t know… You aren’t worried about what people will think?”

He paused, looking her in the eye, “Are you?”

She shook her head, “Well, in terms of worrying about what people think of me…no. But I’d hate for you to have bad press or something.” Benedict laughed a little at this, “I think I’ve had worse things said about me.” Emilie must not have looked convinced because he squeezed her hand and leaned in, “I know I don’t know everything about you. But I think I know enough to not care or know better about what others might presume.”

* * *

 

The rest of their day was spent wandering various areas of London that were favorites of Benedict’s. They bought pastries from a little bakery where Benedict then refused to allow them to leave until she tried a bite of the banoffee pie he’d purchased. They browsed books at a corner shop and they each made recommendations for the other while talking their favorite pieces of literature. Emilie was almost far too excited when Benedict admitted to having never read Vonnegut; swearing that she would retrieve her copy of _Hocus Pocus_ from her apartment for him.  He bemusedly agreed, stating that she would then have to borrow a book of his. They connected on their mutual love for poetry, she favored Frost, Ben favored Keats. 

While they explored various shops, Benedict insisted Emilie tell him more about her home. She easily recalled the sprawling green fields of farmland that filled the expanse between towns. She spoke of the summer days that were so hot your breath was stolen as soon as you stepped outside and thunderstorms that acted as a lullaby while falling asleep.  Winters that left you swearing you would move south one day, but were missed dearly when you were melting in August. Football and basketball games that left you with no voice the following day. Speeding down an abandoned country road at midnight with all the windows down and hair whipping in the wind. The sense of peace she had while driving across state, taking the long way to see more rolling green hills under a bright blue sky.  

Benedict was smiling at her when she finished, having taken in every word and giving her his full attention.

“It sounds brilliant. Do you miss it?”

Emilie shrugged, “All the time. It’ll always be home and I love where I come from.  But I never wanted to limit myself to just one place.”

They began walking again, and decided to get a pint or two before going to dinner since neither of them were hungry just yet.  Benedict directed them to a little pub with few patrons. The conversation bounced across a great random number of topics. Benedict entertained her with embarrassing on-set stories from his projects, while Emilie told him some of her favorite stories from working in childcare for the past four years. The combination of stories and beer had the pair of them giggling like madmen; which incurs some stares and scowls from the other patrons in the pub.

“Well, now seems like a good time to get dinner,” Emilie said, placing a hand on her chest as she recovered from a fit of giggles. Benedict had just finished recalling the time he vomited on a cast mate after foolishly staying out the night before and not going to bed. He chuckles as he nods, “Yes, I think you’re right. The others don’t appear to appreciate our storytelling.” He glances over his shoulders at some older men who seem to despise the noise of their laughter.

Emilie selected a sushi place Molly had taken her to last week and it had left her craving to return since. Throughout the course of their meal they chatted and laughed; most of the laughter was due to Emilie’s attempts to teach Benedict the proper way to handle chopsticks and they were most likely still buzzed from earlier.

“I promise I used to be able to do this,” Benedict chuckles as another piece of sushi falls from his grasp. Emilie watched him try to grasp the roll once more before taking pity on him.

“Here,” she easily plucked the piece from the plate, and held it out for him to take a bite.

* * *

 

“I have one last thing I’d like us to see. It’s not too far of a walk from here,” Benedict says as he helps Emilie put her jacket on after dinner. They strolled along the streets hand in hand, deep in conversation.

When they stop on Waterloo Bridge they stand in comfortable silence, looking out over the brightly lit city.

“I’ve always loved coming here. It’s always made me feel like I was part of something special. Bigger than myself,” he says, eyes still fixated on the lights.

Emilie thought of similar places back home, though she admitted they paled in comparison to the view in front of her. The moment was perfect and she did not want to ruin it by speaking, so instead she took her hand out of her pocket and reached for Benedict’s hand.

His hand grasped hers, his thumb gently tracing a circular pattern on her skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of wishing I would have had Emilie's name be Susie instead. I watched 'Moonrise Kingdom' again and suddenly wished I could change the name. I'll resist for now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been at home the last few days with laryngitis. So I thought I'd start the weekend with another chapter.

“Are you ready yet?” Molly whined as she stood in the doorway of their bathroom. Emilie was just finishing the final touches of her makeup. It was significantly heavier than what she normally wore, and she had spent more time on her hair than her usual towel dried routine.

“Wow, that’s some dress,” Molly said, taking a swig of the birthday champagne Emilie had bought her.

The dress had been an impulse buy from the summer, something she only wore when she went out. It had seen many nights out. It was short and red, the ruched fabric clung tightly to the curves of her body and the neckline scooped to show off her sizeable chest. Emilie had intended to leave it behind in Iowa, not really seeing a purpose for it here, but Kara had secretly stuffed it into her luggage before she left.

“Alright, I’m ready,” Emilie said, smacking her lips as she finished applying her lip gloss.

* * *

 

They began their night at a rather loud pre-party Molly’s friend had elected to throw for her. Upon entering, Molly was swallowed by the cheery crowd, which left Emilie to fend for herself. She immediately drifted towards one of the friends of Molly she had been introduced to.

“Hey there,” Emilie said, tapping Jack on the shoulder. The sandy-blonde man turned to her. He smiled at her through his glasses.

“Hello Emilie, great to see you again,” he gave her a small hug. “You look fantastic.”

Emilie smiled at him, “You look good too, been here long?”

Jack shook his head, “No, barely twenty minutes. Can I get you anything to drink? Looks like we might be here a while.”

Emilie nodded, “I’ll take whatever you have there.” She says tapping on his glass.

A few whiskeys later and Emilie felt rather good and her mind was pleasantly fuzzy. She pulled out her phone to check the time and found a text from Benedict waiting.

**Hello lovely. What are you up to this evening?**

She smiled and texted back.

_Just out for Molly’s birthday, what about you?_

A moment later her phone buzzed.

**Just taking a break, I’m at a premiere for a friend. Enjoying yourself?**

_Very much, though I have to stop myself because I think I’ll be playing babysitter later._

**Sorry you have to work on one of your days off darling.**

_Ha, I just hope she’s easy to put to bed._

* * *

 

Two hours later Emilie found herself in front of a pub, holding Molly’s hair back as she wretched onto the pavement.

Jack was standing nearby, attempting to hail a cab. She groaned inwardly as she felt her phone buzz in her pocket, forgetting that she had invited Benedict to join them when he finished at the premiere.

_Guess that’s not happening._

“Hey,” she said, balancing the phone on her shoulder and making sure Molly’s hair (and her own shoe) was kept out of the line of fire.

“Hello, I’m just getting into a cab. Where can I meet you?”

“Well,” Emilie started, readjusting her hands, “Our night’s over, I’m currently holding Molly’s hair.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is she okay? Is there anything I can do?”

“Yeah she’s okay, just too many drinks. I think we can make it home. We’re trying to get a cab.”

“Where are you now?”

The pub Molly was currently defacing with her stomach contents was on a corner. Emilie looked up and named the streets.

It took a little reassurance that it wasn’t too far out of Benedict’s way before Emilie agreed to let him take them home. Once Molly’s stomach was empty, she planted the girl on a nearby bench before telling Jack their plans.

“Oh are you sure? I’m sure a cab will be here soon, or I could walk you girls home,” Jack said.

“Oh no, it’s really fine, we have someone coming. It's a bit far to walk anyway.”

Jack nodded, and Emilie checked her phone again to see how long Benedict might be. She felt Jack step very close to her, leaving only inches between their bodies. He was her height, maybe slightly shorter, with broad shoulders and thick arms. To be fair to him though, Emilie was 5'8".They had chatted all night since they hardly knew anyone else in the group. Suddenly his very attentive nature made sense.

“I enjoyed chatting with you tonight,” he said softly, his brown eyes bore into her.

Emilie nodded, taking a small step back, “Yeah, it was fun, despite how it ended.” She gestured to Molly.

Jack laughed a little too hard at her comment.

“I’d like to see you again,” he said, once again closing the space between them.

“Oh yeah, well maybe we can set up another group outing for next week,” Emilie said, acting oblivious to what he actually meant.

“No, I mean…” he trailed off, leaning his head close to hers.

“Emilie!” Molly cried, leaning over the rail of the bench to expel more vomit. Emilie was thankful for the distraction as she rushed over to her friend, grabbing her hair. She heard Jack sigh disappointedly.

Molly was still retching when a cab pulled up to the curb. Emilie looked up to see Benedict exit, looking sharp in a black suit and tie, smiling widely at her.

“Hello darling,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder and kissing her cheek.  Emilie blushed, noticing Jack intently study the brick wall out of the corner of her eye. Ben turned to him, reaching out his hand, "Hello, I'm-"

"Benedict Cumberbatch, yeah..." Jack took his hand lamely. His expression a mixture of shock and that look men get when they size eachother up. Thankfully, Ben chose to either ignore it or was oblivious to it. Although his sideways glance at Emilie told her it was probably the former.

“Thanks for coming to get us. I haven’t seen a single cab before yours,” Emilie said, breaking the awkward silence.

“It’s no problem. I’m sorry Molly isn’t feeling well,” he said, gesturing to her. Molly sat up at the mention of her name, smiling crookedly at Benedict.

“Knight in shining armour,” she mumbled, blinking and wiping her mouth. She attempted to stand, but immediately lost her balance. Emilie quickly grabbed her waist to steady her and reassured Ben she was okay holding her as they made their way to the cab. Emilie noticed Jack had already returned to the pub.

Their ride home was (thankfully) uneventful, with Molly having passed out against the window, giving Emilie and Benedict time to make small talk and laugh with one another. When they reached Emilie’s building she and Benedict helped carry Molly up the stairs, something that took about 10 minutes longer than usual because of Molly’s insistence at taking breaks (short naps) at each landing.  Once they finally entered the apartment Benedict waited patiently while Emilie helped Molly get changed into some sleepwear and tucked into bed.

A few minutes later she came back to the living room to find Benedict sitting on the couch, he stood when she entered.  Emilie walked to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Thank you for helping us tonight,” she said smiling up at him.

“It was no problem, I was just happy I could see you,” he said, placing a kiss on her cheek; “Also, you look incredible. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling when I first saw you.” He rested his hand on her hip.

“You look quite dapper yourself, Mr. Cumberbatch.”

Despite no music playing, they began to dance with one another. It started simple, shifting their feet from one foot to another in sync. Eventually they began to shuffle their feet and twirl in circles, and soon Benedict was leading them in a dance around the living room. He started to hum a low, pleasant tune with a smile on his lips. They both laughed lightly. Emilie had never thought of herself as a dancer, but Benedict made it easy to fall into a rhythm. He ended his little song by dipping Emilie just low enough so he could place a tender kiss on her neck. The sensation of his lips on her sensitive skin sent shivers down her spine. When he straightened her again she immediately pressed her lips to his.

When she opened her eyes again Benedict looked deep in contemplation.

“What is it?” Emilie asked.

“I’ve been thinking about us a great deal lately,” he said, his voice low and soft.

“Really?”

He nods his head slightly, “I love talking with you, and being with you. I’m amazed at how easy it is, and that’s something that almost never occurs with the women I’ve known or dated.”

He smiles down at her before continuing, “Every time I hear your voice I feel I can relax and be myself, that’s something that hasn’t happened for a very, very long time. You have such a great personality and take on things. The fact that you’re a teacher and have so much love for what you do is so admirable to me. You’re witty, humble, and incredibly compassionate towards others. There hasn’t been a conversation that hasn’t left me completely blown away by what a spectacular woman you are.”

Emilie was floored; it had been many years since anyone had spoken to her like that. She did not have low self-esteem by any means, but she certainly would never use the word ‘spectacular’ to describe herself. Her face flushed with color.

Before she could say anything he continued, “The fact that I can be myself with you has left me thinking about how rare that kind of interaction is for me, and I hate to lose it or let you get swept away by someone else. I’d like to be a little selfish.” Ah, so he definitely noticed Jack and his 'look'.

Emilie smiled, “Selfish isn’t always a bad thing.”

“I know we’ve only been on two official dates, but I can already tell this is something that I’d like to continue. Exclusively.” He paused and looked a little self-conscious, “Do you?”

She could not believe her ears. Much like the past six weeks, it had all seemed like a dream; something that only happened in one of the awful romantic comedies she avoided watching. Truthfully, she’d been hoping for it; the chance to call Benedict hers, to know the wonderful man that had come into her life by mistake.

After what was probably a long moment for Benedict, Emilie grinned widely and pressed her lips to his. All the confirmation he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to drag my roommate upstairs the other night. Drink specials are the devil.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh! SO SORRY. Almost immediately after I started working on this chapter my free time just vanished. I promise to make a better effort. Also I just started Breaking Bad, and you other Heisenberg fans understand the addiction (see what I did there?) I've now acquired.  
> Anyhow, this one is a little short. Next one will be better (promise).

“Okay, who is he?” Cristine, Emilie’s sister, asked on Skype one evening.

“Who’s who?” She replies, playing stupid. It didn’t work.

“I know when you have a new boyfriend,” her older sister said, giving her the same ‘know-it-all’ look that she used to sport when they were younger. Being sisters she knew her own face sometimes sported that exact look.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emilie said glancing away from the screen.

Her sister sighed, as though annoyed she had to prove her baby sister wrong, “Well, you’ve stopped referring to people you’ve been hanging out with or telling stories about by name. Instead you say ‘my friend’. Plus everything you seem to be doing lately involves places to eat or parks or romantic sounding things, and,” her sister craned her neck, looking over Emilie’s shoulder, “your room is ridiculously clean. As if to keep appearances for someone that ventures in there often. Not to mention the hickie on your neck.” Cristine finished with a look that dared her younger sister to contradict her. It was a very Sherlockian deduction.

Emilie glared and adjusted her laptop’s angle to impede her sister’s view, placing one hand on her neck. Of course, she was right. The past few weeks since Emilie and Benedict made things “official” they had begun spending more and more time together, at least as much as Benedict’s  schedule would allow. The current bruise on her neck was from a recent make out session on her couch. Even though it was a very teenager thing for them to do, the mark on her neck made her smile.Though to their credit they had not yet moved past that.

“Okay…there _is_ someone.”

Cristine immediately broke out in a triumphant smile, but before she could say anything Emilie’s screen was suddenly filled by a different face.

“Em-lee!” Her one year-old nephew cried out. He was a spitting image of his mother’s side of the family. His bright blue eyes danced as he waved his hand excitedly at her.

“Hi Aiden,” Emilie smiled.

Five minutes later and a story that involved Aiden exploring his diaper genie, Cristine had gotten the toddler to play by himself while she spoke to Emilie.

“I assume you haven’t told Mom, or anyone here then.”

Emilie felt a little guilty, “No, I haven’t.”

The reason why was obvious. It had only been a few months since she’d left Alex. They had been together for two years. And while they had pulling away from one another for months, the end was still bitter and painful. 

Her sister didn’t bring it up though. She was never one to judge Emilie for her actions seeing as how the elder had made numerous mistakes of her own. Instead, she asked, “Well, tell me about him.”

Emilie carefully avoided the telling her sister exactly _who_ Ben was. She really didn’t feel it was time to drop the “my boyfriend is a world-famous actor” bomb just yet. She mostly described how well they got along, how much she enjoyed spending time with him, and how it had been a long time since she felt this good about someone she was dating. Cristine was quiet, nodding along every so often and smiling at the proper moments.

“He sounds special.”

“Yeah, he’s amazing.” Amazing, a word she seemed to be repeating over and over lately.

 

* * *

 

Emilie leaned in close to Ben’s sleeping face, the credits of the movie rolling steadily on the screen.  He had just finished an exhausting week of press junkets and film premieres that sent him flying back and forth from England to the US. They had made plans to simply stay in and watch a movie that night, but he had hardly made it halfway through before falling asleep on Emilie’s couch.

She placed a light kiss on Ben’s forehead, smiling when his eyes fluttered open lazily.

“I’m so sorry,” he said as he sat up and stretched his long arms above his head, “I thought I could make it through.”

Emilie shook her head, “It’s okay. You’re tired. It’s been a long week for you.”

Ben nodded, rubbing his eyes. He glanced at the clock on the wall.

“I should probably be going, it’s a little…” he yawned, “late.”

He stood slowly, still attempting to wake up. He fiddled with his coat for a moment, his eyes still half closed. There were visible bags under his eyes.

“You know,” Emilie started, pretending to examine a throw pillow’s embroidery, “You could stay here tonight, if you like. It might be a little hard to get a cab around here at this hour.”

Ben stilled, turning to her. He looked hesitant.

“Are you sure?”

Emilie nodded, “I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I have any…expectations,” Ben said cautiously, “We can just sleep.”

“Just sleep,” she agreed.

 

Emilie emerged from the bathroom, gently patting her clean face with a towel. She walked into her room to find Benedict standing in front of her dresser, examining the numerous photographs she had displayed with a small smile on his lips. He glanced at her as she entered, gesturing to the photographs.

“These are lovely, I need more photos around my flat.”

Emilie cross the room and stood next to him. They spent the next few moments talking about a few of the photos, each having their own memory connected to it.

“…and that’s the last time I will ever wear a corset while competitively drinking everclear,” she finished, laughing at the memory of her and several others she'd been with that night coating the inside of their designated driver’s car one Halloween after sprinting from the cops. 

Ben was laughing too. His deep chuckle was all Emilie could focus on.

After a moment Benedict cleared his throat, sounding a bit nervous.

“Well then, shall we?” He said, awkwardly gesturing to her bed. Emilie giggled and nodded, peeling her sweatshirt off to reveal a tank top underneath. Ben keenly avoided gazing at Emilie’s body as he undressed to his shirt and boxers. He looked at her apologetically.

“Sorry for my attire, I don’t have anything to sleep in with me at the moment,” he said climbing in next to her.

“Maybe we could change that,” Emilie smiled.

They laid together for a time, awkwardly attempting to readjust their positions to feel comfortable. There were a few apologies when Ben laid on her hair and Emilie bumped his shin with her heel. Eventually they both started to laugh, eliminating any awkward tension.

They adjusted their positions so they faced one another, kissing each other softly on the lips. Slowly their kisses became more passionate, and their bodies scooted closer. The darkness in the room made it that much more sensual, and Emilie could feel the heat pooling beneath her belly button.  

When Ben’s hand fiddled with the waistband of her shorts, Emilie tensed. It had been a long time since she’d been intimate with anyone.

He noticed her hesitation and broke their kiss. She could just make out his silhouette in the darkness.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away, sounding ashamed.

“No, no it’s okay. I just… it’s been a while. Since I’ve done that,” she explained lamely.

“Really? How long?” It’s a simple enough question, but Emilie hesitated, feeling ashamed.

“Seven months.”

“That’s not bad… _really_ ,” He added as Emilie snorted, “Truth be told it’s been a while for me as well,” Ben said as he shift his body to rest his chin on a pillow. Before Emilie can answer he says, “July, for me. So a few months.”

Emilie nods, but still felt uneasy. She still had not told Benedict about being engaged. In fact, they hadn’t talked about ex-partners at all, even though it would be easy for Emilie to find out about his past relationships with one search in Google. She was still doing well on her self-ban from Google.

“What I mean is, the last person… I was with… was my fiancé,” she says, but quickly sputters, “ _ex_ -fiancé.” She was incredibly nervous Ben would reject her or think she had moved too quickly into a new relationship. It was annoying that she couldn’t see his face to gauge his reaction.

After a brief pause, he grabbed her hand and squeezed softly, “What happened?”

Talking about Alex was surprisingly easy. The last time she had spoken out loud about him was to Molly, and she had cried her eyes out. Though to be fair, she had been rather drunk. While she talked about Alex and his betrayal to Ben he held her hand and listened carefully. Though he could not stop himself from muttering “Bastard” when she told him about him beginning to date Melanie shortly after she came to London. A fact she had learned from Kara just a few days ago.

“You seem… alright with it,” Benedict said when she finished.

“I had a grieving period.”

They sat in silence for a time before he cleared his throat.

“But you’re okay now?” He asked, Emilie could hear doubt and a hint of worry in his voice. She squeezed his hand.

“Yes, absolutely.” And she wasn’t lying. The little things, such hearing their song come on her iPod playlist or coming across a photo of them together didn’t make her burst into tears; it hardly stirred anything anymore. 

“I guess after a certain amount of time the feelings just fade, and you’re just okay with what happened. It doesn’t make me feel much of anything anymore, in a good way,” she said, feeling the silence to be too uncomfortable.

“I understand completely…” And then piece by piece Benedict revealed parts about his romantic past: Olivia, Anna, and the general struggle with keeping up a relationship with his newfound fame.

“Before you, it was so hard to connect with someone. And most of the time I was distracted with work, but it always felt like something was missing.”

He pulled her closer, so that she lay in the crook of his arm, he head on his chest. As he talked she could feel his deep baritone voice reverberating in his chest along with the sound of his heartbeat.

They lay like that for hours, with the conversation darting between all sorts of topics, both listening patiently when the other talked. Soon, it was four o’clock.

“I suppose we should get some sleep,” Ben said with a yawn.

“Mmmhmm,” Emilie replied sleepily.

After a deep kiss, they slowly drifted off into a comfortable sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, it's shorter than I like. Also, I probably haven't said this before but any helpful comments or suggestions are always welcome! :)

The sun’s rays on Emilie’s face roused her from sleep earlier than she liked. She cursed herself for not remembering to shut the curtains the night before. After letting out a sigh she carefully slipped out from under the covers, trying not to wake Benedict and tiptoed to the kitchen.

Her ambitions to make breakfast were swiftly shot down when she looked through her cupboards. It had been a while since she’d gone to the shop for groceries.

Thinking she could at least make some tea, Emilie dug out the electric kettle and filled it with water. When she tried to plug it into the outlet, she heard a faint sizzle, and then nothing. As many times as she pressed the button and switched outlets, nothing happened.

“Well, shit,” she muttered, unplugging it from the wall.

“Troubles?” Benedict’s voice behind her made her gasp in surprise and drop the kettle to the ground. He let out a light laugh as he picked it up from the floor.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said handing it back to her.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry actually. I wanted to make us breakfast, but...” she drifted off, gesturing to her bare cupboards and the broken kettle. Their stove kettle had moved to Devin's apartment last week.

Ben looked thoughtful for a moment before a small smile played on his lips, “We could have breakfast and tea at my flat.” The proposition made Emilie raise an eyebrow. The very idea of seeing Benedict’s home made her giddy with anticipation.

Since they had begun dating she had been incredibly curious about it; she of course didn’t pry and ask him where he lived, and it was the first time he’d brought it up. She suddenly felt a rush of affection for him; excited that he was opening up more of himself to her. Admittedly, she had never had to wait this long to see any of her boyfriend’s homes, but then again she had never dated anyone famous; someone that needed to be cautious about who knew where they lived.

“Yeah, just let me shower and clean up a little okay?” She said. Ben nodded in agreement.

 

* * *

 

Emilie honestly could not remember ever being worried about how long of a shower she should take. Her showers were normally about fifteen minutes. But when she reached for the handle to turn off the water a weird, paranoid thought ran across her mind.

_What if he thinks I didn’t take long enough in the shower?_

_What if he thinks it’s weird I only spent fifteen minutes in here?_

_I should take a little longer…_

She spent the next ten minutes going through her entire routine one more time.

 

* * *

 

Emilie was surprised at how comfortable and minimal Ben’s place was. True, it was much bigger than the flat she and Molly shared, but in her own imagination she expected him to have an enormous townhome with modern, posh looking furniture that looked just as pricey. But in reality it was decorated in soft blues and grays, with eclectic furnishings and little knickknacks from his travels. She felt bad for standing on the brand new hardwood flooring when they entered, she quickly slipped off her shoes and placed them close to the door.  

“Oh, it’s very cozy here,” she said to him, following him to the kitchen. She noticed his travel bag in the entry way, and smiled when she spotted her copy of _Hocus Pocus_ peeking out from a side pocket.

“Thank you, I try to keep it feeling like an actual home, instead of the sterile feeling hotels I’m always frequenting,” he comments as he begins compiling things to cook with. Emilie perches herself on a stool at the island and watched him move around. Ben suddenly seemed very fidgety, or anxious. She smiled at the idea of him being nervous to cook for her.

“Do you cook a lot?” She asked, tracing her fingers on the marble countertop.

“What? Oh yes… when I can,” he paused to crack a few eggs into a bowl. He pulled open several drawers before locating a whisk, and turned back to her.

“So,” he begins with a slight hesitation, “Have any plans for Halloween?”

“Not at the moment, Molly mentioned a party so I might just tag along. That or spend it indoors with a movie and a bolted door,” she said and Ben chuckled.

“Well,” he started, sprinkling salt and pepper into the bowl, “We could spend it together, if you’d like.  My schedule’s quite busy after that, it might be weeks before I’m back in London.” Emilie nodded, remembering him mentioning it a few days ago.

“Well it’s decided then,” she smiled at him. Ben poured the eggs into the skillet and turned to her, placing his lips to hers. Any sadness she felt about him leaving for several weeks melted away. She gave a sudden jump when he placed his hand on her waist. Ben pulled away, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re ticklish?”

Emilie stood from her seat, backing away immediately. His steps matched hers, preparing for his pounce. A devilish glint in his eye.

“The eggs…” Emilie started, but Benedict gave her a quick smirk, “I never turned the heat on. They’ll keep just fine. Until I’m through with you.”

Ben was much faster than she anticipated, but she was still ready for him when he lunged. She ducked with a squeal and ran to the living room, putting the couch between them. She was giddy and couldn’t stop laughing, which put her reactions at a severe disadvantage.

He flinched at her, and she fell for it. He picked her up with surprising ease and tossed her on the couch, tickling every inch of her waist despite her breathless protests.

Soon they both collapsed, and his lips once again found his way to hers.   She ran her fingers through his hair, receiving a light moan in return. Just when she began to lift her leg up to wrap it around his waist, he pulled away. His lips were swollen and his hair adorably mussed.

“Better fix those eggs now,” he winked, strutting back to kitchen.

She was deeply regretting their affirmation from the night before. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love tickle wars. They always (usually) lead to a great resolution ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer has been doing a funny thing lately. There is something stuck in the fan and it makes the most awful sound when I tilt my computer back and forth (I've stopped experimenting with that).  
> Anyhow, this is the result of trying to quickly write a chapter before my computer overheats.

The little bubble Emilie and Benedict had been in since their relationship began finally burst a week later. She was enjoying a quiet evening at home planning lessons and had _Parks and Recreation_ playing on the TV for background noise and the occasional break. Her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter signaling a text message. She padded across the room and plucked it from the counter, smiling when she saw it was from Ben.

 

_Ring me as soon as you can. Please._

 

“Weird,” she muttered. He was never so short in text messages. In fact, most of his texts were quite… wordy..

Before she could open the menu to dial him Kara’s name popped up on the screen for an incoming call.

“Hello?” Emilie answered.

“Emilie Bishop! Why didn’t you tell me?!” Her friend’s voice yelled. Emilie hoped it wasn’t what she thought it was.

“Tell you wh-“

“You _know_ what. Fuck. Here I am enjoying my frappuccino, scrolling through some gossip websites and _WHO_ do I see in a picture, eye-fucking the shit out of Benedict Cumberbatch while walking hand in hand with him?”

Silence. Then, “I wasn’t eye-fucking him.”

“YOU. UGH. I can’t even. Em, _what the fuck_?”

“I know! I’m sorry! I didn’t want to tell anyone just yet!”

“Well the cat’s out of the bag, you’ve been caught. I’m so overwhelmingly happy I got to find out from a gossip page too, by the way.”

Another five minutes of apologies and Kara was calm enough to stop beating Emilie with the guilt bat.  This was perfect, because Emilie had begun to panic.

“There’s really pictures of us? Together?” She asked, the realization that anyone could find out about the two of them fully hitting her. This not only included her family, but Benedict’s friends and family would be privy to the information too. They hadn’t even been introduced. They probably didn’t know about her.

“Yes, you twat waffle. And it’s pretty damn obvious you two are together. I mean, the way he’s looking at you in the one…”

Emilie’s phone buzzed, indicating another text message.

 

_Are you busy?_

She felt bad not answering, but at that moment she was attempting to not overreact to photos of herself on the internet.

“What website?” she asked, cutting Kara off mid-sentence. She forwarded the link to Emilie.

The pictures themselves weren’t bad. Emilie thought she could have looked better and Ben looked handsome as always. Kara was right; it was pretty obvious they weren’t just friends.

“Ugh, I should have thought about this,” Emilie said. The idea that the paparazzi could find them so easily and that her own face could end up on a website and in a paper was something she (stupidly) hadn’t really thought of.

Emilie jumped when someone rang her buzzer. She put Kara on hold, “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Ben’s voice said curtly.

Emilie buzzed him in, “Kara, I have to go, he’s here.”

“OH no you don’t! I haven’t met him yet! Put him on!” She clicked the ‘end’ button as she heard someone approach her flat.

Ben opened the door, heading for Emilie straight away.

“Em, you didn’t respond and I had to stop by –“ he stopped, noticing her laptop’s browser screen, he clears his throat, “So, you’ve seen all that.”

She nods, “Yeah.” He watched her cautiously, as if searching her face for her reaction.

“And?”

“And what? Truthfully I didn’t really think about it until now... I should probably start dressing better in public,” she jokes.

Ben’s face relaxes slightly, and he pulls her into a hug.

“I thought you might be upset. People on the internet aren’t always kindhearted.”

“It’s not bad,” she says, shrugging, “I normally have resting-bitch-face in candid pictures – “

“Sorry?” He snorts, pulling back with an amused smile on his lips.

“You know, when your face just naturally frowns when it’s resting. So, resting-bitch-face.”

Ben smiles and nods.

“Well, you always look lovely,” he says, kissing her on the forehead.

“Only when I’m next to you.”

Ben scoffs, “This mug?”

“This mug,” Emilie says, reaching up and holding his face between her hands.

 

Ben left shortly after that, but not before they discussed going “official” to the public. The conversation initially went nowhere, with Ben hesitant to act without Emilie’s consent and Emilie wanting to break the news to her parents beforehand. She was also really hoping the story would just die. It seemed like Benedict had been in the news every so often with relationship allegations to various females. Though admittedly none of the other photos had him looking so “friendly” with the other women. Ultimately, they decided to wait to tell the press.

* * *

 

Days later and it appeared that Benedict Cumberbatch’s relationship was all the tabloids cared about.

“Didn’t someone just have a baby or an affair with their nanny?” Emilie complained to Ben one night as she scrolled through one of the news pages.

 “Darling, that’s not as big as me having a girlfriend.”

“Oh, broke out the old trumpet to toot your own horn this evening?” she smiled, pausing to read one of the paragraphs that revolved around her. Luckily, they had not learned her identity, but they knew she was American; apparently Californian according to that particular story.

“What about me screams ‘California’?” she grumbled.

“You’re reading that rubbish? I thought we agreed we’d ignore it?” Ben scolded.

“You brought it up that they were still reporting on it. Plus everyone I know keeps sending me links.”

“Ah. How did your talk with your parents go?” Ben asked. Emilie caught the slight twinge of nervousness in the question.

“About as well as any other time I’ve told them of a new boyfriend. Lots of questions. Concern about dating someone like you – “

“Like me?”

“ _Famed_. Don’t worry, I assured them you're just an average man whose face happens to be world famous.”

“Ah, thank you for reassuring them,” he said a bit wryly.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll love you,” Emilie’s breath hitched a little as she realized she might have made the mistake of implying there would be a parent-boyfriend meeting. Implying that she and Ben would be together long enough for him to get to know them.

“I mean, like on Skype or the phone or whatever.”

“Em, I’d love to meet them,” Ben said, his smile evident in his voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that its October, I have to say that Halloween is my favorite. Thanksgiving #2 because its the one day a year I have a valid excuse to eat until I vomit - and then eat some more.  
> I've already watched 'Hocus Pocus' 3 times.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good golly, I am the worst (or best, depending on how you look at it) at procrastinating! I'm sorry if you've been waiting around for an update! Student teaching is a lot more...'busy' than I thought it'd be. On the bright side, I'll soon be graduated and have more time for this! 
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos and comments! They mean a lot and they really keep me motivated. I promise it wont be another month until the next update!

Finally, a week later and Emilie was pushing her way through the crowded car to make sure she got off at the right stop.  There were more people out to celebrate than she’d expected; though the costumes were decidedly less…slutty than she was used to. She couldn’t judge of course, having donned her fair share of skimpy costumes in the past.

Tonight, however, she wore her fox hat, complete with fur-like material and adorably floppy, black-tipped ears. Despite their agreement to stay in for the night, the fact that Halloween was her favorite holiday meant that she wouldn’t feel right not doing _something_.

Ben’s smile and the way his eyes brightened at the sight of her (and the hat) made her weak in the knees when he opened his door for her.

“Hello fox,” he said, patting her hat and giving her a peck, “I’m sorry I didn’t make an effort. I thought since we were staying in…”

“No, no. It’s fine. It’s my favorite holiday. I just can’t ignore the impulse to dress up,” she began unloading the shopping bags she had filled with things she thought necessary:  Reese’s peanut butter bars (homemade, she could not find the real thing anywhere), some movie picks of her own, and a nice bottle of whiskey.

Ben picked up the bottle, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Why not?” she smirked, walking to his kitchen to grab some glasses.

The next half hour was spent debating over what movie to watch first. Ben was opting for a scarier movie, while Emilie pushed for _Hocus Pocus_ or _A Nightmare Before Christmas._

“I’ve never seen _Hocus Pocus._ Isn’t that the name of the book you lent me?”

“Yes, different though. Both are amazing.”

“I don’t know, it looks a little…silly.”

“Says the man that owns _Zoolander._ Trust me,” she said, finishing her drink and putting the disc into the DVD player, “You’ll love it.”

Ben paused and smiled, “It’s hard to argue with you in that hat.”

“I’ll keep that in mind from now on.”

 

90 minutes later and Emilie was able to say ‘I told you so’ to Ben who agreed the movie was very entertaining. She found it much more entertaining to see Ben in her fox hat.

“I look ridiculous,” he said, taking a generous gulp from his glass.

“No, you really don’t, it’s adorable,” she said, reaching over and ruffling the ears.

Since she had picked the first movie, it meant Ben was now in charge of choosing the next one. He peered over his shoulder and gave her a crooked, impish smirk, which could have partially been influenced by the now ¾ empty bottle of whiskey.

He joined her on his couch just as the familiar opening scene of a camera panning across a vast lake and mountainous highway began.

“This movie gave me nightmares as a kid,” she said, snuggling close to him and bringing her glass of whiskey to her lips. She told him it was the reason she had a resolute rule to never be in a hotel hallway past 9 o’clock. 

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

Not even 30 minutes into the movie the rest of the bottle was finished, and they had abandoned the movie, opting for an intense make out session on the couch.

It had been a long, long time since she’d taken things slow with anyone. She and Alex had been friends with benefits before they’d dated, and she’d hardly ever waited longer than two weeks into any relationship to start having sex. She couldn’t place the last time kissing hadn’t led to getting naked.

Tonight his kisses were more intense, and she was giving just as much as he was. Her mind was fuzzy as she kissed him back. Little moans escaped from their mouths, and both of them were eager to explore the other’s body with their hands. Emilie did not freeze or protest when Ben’s hands slipped under the fabric of her shirt; quite the opposite actually. She moaned and grinded her hips against his, prompting Ben to respond with his own moan.

Just as she was reaching for the button on his jeans, a loud screech from the television made them both jump. They laughed and drunkenly grinned at one another, catching their breath while Ben hovered over her on the couch.

“We said we’d wait,” his speech slurred slightly, he pressed his forehead to hers.

Her mind was very fuzzy now, a combination of splitting the bottle of alcohol and the sudden rush of blood from her head to her pelvis.

“We did,” she answered simply.

“I want you. So badly. But I am drunk, bordering on pissed, and I wouldn’t feel right about it,” Ben said, sitting up and pulling her into his lap.

“Are you upset?” he asked, concerned. Emilie shook her head. She wasn’t disappointed… impatient was the word she would use. But she understood, through the drunken haze that clouded her mind she agreed with him. She was even flattered by his chivalry. She nuzzled her face into his neck.

“I want you too. Desperately,” she murmured, tracing her finger along the collar of his shirt, “But you leave soon. Tomorrow.”

“We’ll do it when I’m back. We can make a night out of it.”

Emilie couldn’t help herself, she started giggling.

“What?” Ben asked.

“What are we, a couple of teenagers planning to deflower one another in the basement when my parents are out? Who will buy the condoms? Should I steal some alcohol?”

This made him chuckle and pinch her side playfully, “Was that you? You seem familiar with that scenario.”

“I won’t deny it,” she laughed, giving him a jab of her own. Soon they were tickling one another, Ben having the upper hand as he pushed her back onto the couch.

“No! Please!” Emilie squealed. He let up, but Emilie continued to laugh, wiping away the tears from the corners of her eyes.

“You’re too good at that,” she said, straightening her shirt.

“One of my many talents, as you’ll see for yourself,” Ben winked, making Emilie laugh.

 

 

The next three weeks were torture for the couple. Emilie more-so than Ben, at least he had an insanely busy schedule to keep his mind occupied. His calls came at all hours of the day (and night), and he was always keen to keep the conversation PG-rated. Though Emilie often went to bed at night with an aching in her pelvis. It had gotten to the point where just the thought of him turned her on. She was always waiting for his calls just so she could hear his voice.

“So, how was your day? Any amusing stories?” His voice would purr over the phone. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was just him or if he was trying to make his voice sound extra sexy. Either way the sound always sent goose bumps shooting down her spine.

“Fine,” she would reply, swallowing hard.

And the conversations were usually just that. They would tell each other about their respective days, funny things that had happened, and other nonchalant topics.

“I miss you,” he said one night.

“I miss you too.”

“I have something to confess,” he started with a light laugh.

“What’s that?”

“I took the shirt you slept in the last time you were at my flat with me. It smells like you.”

This made Emilie break out into a smile. It also made her insanely jealous of her shirt. 

“And what it is you do with said shirt?” she asked.

“Sleep in it mostly,” Ben answered.

“Mostly?”

“Well, I can’t really tell you about the other quarter of the time. I’ll let your imagination fill in the gaps.”

Emilie laughed, her cheeks feeling hot.

“I wish I had something of yours. The postcards you’ve been sending don’t smell anything like you.”

“So you got them?”

“Yeah,” she was twirling one between her fingers at the moment, “I have to say though, I can barely make out half the words. Did a chicken get loose in your hotel room?”

Ben laughed, “I’ve been told my penmanship isn’t always legible.”

“I might need to break out some lined paper and re-teach you.”

“Darling, you can be my naughty school teacher anytime you like,” Ben joked.

“You’re awfully flirty tonight,” Emilie smiled.

“Is it not working?”

“Well, I never said that, you’re very charming,” she replied.

“Good thing, otherwise I would have never been able to convince you to be mine,” he said. The sincerity in his voice caught Emilie off guard.

“I think you mean that the other way around,” she said, “You’ve been deemed the sexiest man alive and I’m your homely schoolteacher girlfriend. I think we know who got lucky here.”

“No. Please don’t degrade yourself. You are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Thank you, for being you.”

A little shocked, Emilie simply replied, “Um… you’re welcome.”

“Also, I can’t wait to shag you silly the next time I see you.”

They both laughed.

"It's a date."

But seriously, Emilie couldn’t wait until next week.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! Wow, I am just theeee WORST at keeping up with deadlines.  
> On the plus side, this chapter is extra long and now that I have finished with student teaching, I will be able to update a bit more frequently during break!  
> Enjoy :)

The day of Benedict’s return finally arrived, and Emilie found herself incredibly unfocused as she went about her work day. Her fellow teachers must have noticed her distraction during their lunch break because they started to prod her about it.

“Everything alright Emilie?” one of them asked.

“You seem a little… preoccupied today,” another commented.

“What?” Emilie answered, snapping out of her reverie, “Oh, yeah sorry. Just a lot on my mind is all.”

The other two women smiled at each other knowingly. The two teachers, Rose Pond and Amelia Tyler, had become Emilie’s trusted confidants since she began working at the school, and when she began dating Benedict they were incredibly supportive. When the tabloids started publishing the photos of her and Ben together, they ‘encouraged’ the more gossipy teachers to back off, and didn’t ask anything about it until Emilie brought it up to them. Their age differences were no more than five years, so they were easy to relate to. They had become closer as the term went on; the three of them (with Molly occasionally joining them) would often share a pint in the evenings and take shopping trips on the weekends.

“You said Benedict is supposed to be back today, right?” Amelia smiled, peering at Emilie over her cup of tea.

“Any plans?” Rose asked. Leaning back in her chair and resting her head in her hand. A coy smile spread across her face.

“We’re having a date night. He doesn’t get in until three today so we planned to do dinner later to give him some time to rest,” Emilie couldn’t hide the grin on her face.

“Oh, he needs rest? For an eventful night?” Amelia winked.

Emilie couldn’t stop herself from laughing, her face becoming flushed with color.  It had obviously been on her mind for three weeks. With each passing day she became more nervous (and self-conscious) about tonight.

 ...

Around five o’clock Emilie’s phone buzzed. Glancing down, she let out a small squeak of delight as Benedict’s name appeared on the screen.

“Hello darling,” Ben’s voice purred when she answered.

“Hey you,” she said, not even trying to hide her excitement.

“I was just calling to check if seven would work for you tonight.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

They finished their conversation shortly after that, with Benedict giving Emilie specific directions as where she could meet him.

“Was that Benny?” Molly chimed in from the kitchen.

“Yes it was,” Emilie replied, returning to her book.

Molly poked her head through the doorway, a smile spreading across her face.

“He’s back?”

“Yeah, we have a date tonight.”

Emilie pretended not to notice the smirk Molly was throwing her way. When she looked up again Molly was standing in the doorway, still smiling at her.

“What?”

“A special date?”

Emilie regretted filling Molly in on the details of her Halloween with Benedict.

She sighed, “Who knows, we just said we would wait.”

Molly clicked her tongue, “Uh-huh. Well. I’ll be sure to stay at Devin’s tonight.” She said with a wink.

“You do that,” Emilie said, trying to keep the nervousness from her voice.

 

Two hours later Emilie stepped out of the cab and made her way to Tate Modern, texting Ben to tell him she had arrived. A moment later her phone buzzed.

 

 _I’m by the river entrance_.

 

Emilie made her way around the building, her coat flapping open to reveal the black dress and dark stockings she had chosen for the evening. The breeze coming off the Thames ruffled her hair, forcing her to tuck the loose strands behind her ear. She walked slowly, taking in the view of the city as she made her way towards the entrance.  

 

“Hello darling,” she heard Ben’s voice call, hearing it in person versus over the phone made her weak in the knees. He rose from the bench he sat upon, a wide smile on his face as he walked towards her, arms outstretched.

Emilie forced herself not to run to him, but she could not stop herself from smiling just as widely as she picked up pace. When she reached him he pulled her into a tight hug, kissing the top of her head. She breathed him in, taking in the scent that she had missed dearly over the past three weeks. They stood in their embrace for a moment, each holding the other tightly in their arms.

“How are you?” he asked when they pulled away. Emilie couldn’t resist, and instead of answering him she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him fully on the lips.

She’d definitely missed that.

“Mmm, good to know” was Ben’s reply, smiling into the kiss.

 “Sorry,” Emilie said when they separated.

“Don’t be, that was my next move,” Ben said, squeezing her hand.

 ...

They spent the next hour before dinner wandering the various exhibits on display, chatting and laughing with one another, spending comfortable moments in silence just admiring the artwork, and stealing quick kisses when they were alone.  It all felt very natural to Emilie, like they hadn’t actually spent three weeks apart at all, as though there hadn’t been thousands of miles between them.  

Dinner was no different, with the pair of them laughing and talking intimately with one another over the food and wine Benedict had chosen (at Emilie’s insistence) for them. By the end of the meal, they had moved to sit beside one another, speaking in low murmurs with the occasional chuckle or giggle, and the restaurant’s lights had dimmed, signaling they were near closing.  Their bottle of wine had Emilie feeling quite content and put her nerves at ease.

As they exited the building, Ben took a gentle hold of her arm and guided her towards the Millennium Bridge.

“You have to see it, it’s brilliant at nighttime,” he whispered in her ear. They stopped when they reached the middle, turning to admire the skyline. Ben stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, pressing light kisses against her temple. Emilie leaned against him, smiling contentedly.

“I missed you,” he said, nuzzling his face into her neck.

“Really?”

He laughed lightly, “No. I was lying.”

They both laughed for another moment before Emilie turned around and buried her face in his chest, taking in his scent that she had waited so long for. It was a mixture of his cologne and his own unique scent, with just a hint of smoke. She smiled as she recalled the first time she’d discovered his vice not two weeks into their relationship. They had met a coffee shop for a quick meeting between Ben’s tightly packed schedule, and when she had leaned in for a kiss she paused.

“That’s a really bad habit you know,” she smiled, giving him a quick peck.

She had giggled as he fumbled with his words and turned pink.

It had also been the day she discovered his lisp.

Returning back to the present, Ben asked softly, “Want to go home?” and they finished their walk across the bridge, hand in hand.  They walked another few blocks to Ben’s car, where he was gushing over the fact that he was able to find a parking space in that part of London.

“Is that your biggest accomplishment of the past month?”

“No,” he chuckled as the Jaguar purred to life, “it’s getting through all those interviews and promotions without angering my PR rep. I’m a nightmare when people let me talk.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You say that now, you’ll see.”

They talked and laughed the entire drive to Ben’s flat. Emilie laughed at his awful and funny interview stories from the past few weeks.

“Did she really ask that? The interviewer?”

“Yes.”

“What did you say?”

“That I was currently not seeking a relationship,” he smiled, glancing sideways at her.

“Well, yes technically I guess that’s true.”

 ...

Emilie’s grin could not be contained as Ben opened the door to his flat. It had been weeks since she’d been there (since Halloween) and she was beginning to feel more at ease each time she visited. Ben made his way to the kitchen while Emilie made herself comfortable on the couch. She tilted her head back, exhaling softly. Her busier than usual week was finally catching up with her.

“Well, that is a pleasant sight,” she heard Ben’s amused voice as he entered the room.

She cracked one eye open to look at him. He had discarded his suit jacket and unbuttoned the first few buttons on his shirt. He was holding two glasses of wine and smiling down at her. He quickly set the glasses down on his coffee table and turned to her, placing his hand on her neck.

“Lean back again,” he told her. Emilie did, smiling questioningly at him. Immediately he placed soft kisses along her jaw and neck. The sensation sent electricity shooting up and down her spine.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away, “it was too tempting. Your lovely neck just so exposed.”

“It’s alright,” she laughed lightly, “As long as I get my turn next.” The corner of Ben’s mouth turned upward, but he didn’t say anything.

As they drank their glasses of wine and talked, the space between their bodies grew smaller and smaller until Ben’s hand rested on her knee.

“You know, you were constantly on my mind these past few weeks,” Ben said, his thumb gently stroking her knee.

“You too,” Emilie said, smiling at him.

“I could barely focus the last few interviews, knowing that I would be here with you,” Ben’s face inched closer to Emilie’s as he spoke.

Emilie really couldn’t bear it, she pushed forward, pressing her lips against his and wrapping her arms around his neck. The energy that had been between them the entire night was too much to resist now, and they pawed at one another, collapsing backwards onto the couch.

Ben’s lips parted from Emilie’s as he began planting kisses along her jaw, moving down to her neck, and stopping to suck on her collarbone. Emilie let out an involuntary sigh.

“God, keep making those noises,” Ben panted as his hand began to inch up her thigh, pushing the hem of her dress higher. When his hand grazed the lace at the top of her stockings he paused to look down.

“I want you in nothing but these and your knickers, now,” he demanded. Without saying a word Emilie stood and turned her back to him. She flashed a grin over her shoulder before slowly unzipping her dress, letting it fall to the floor. When she turned Ben made a move to pull her towards him, but she backed away, a coy smirk playing on her lips. In that moment she was very glad she had bought the black bra and underwear set last week, and by the expression on Ben’s face, so was he.  

“You…” he started, standing from the couch and walking to her, “are a vision.”

Slowly he placed hand on the back of her neck, the other resting on her hip. She shuddered as his thumb began to lightly circle her hipbone.  After a deep kiss, Ben smirked at her, running his hand softly along her side before picking her up, allowing Emilie to wrap her legs around his waist and arms around his neck as he walked her to the bedroom.

Just as Ben lowered her onto the bed and pressed his lips to hers, the sound of her phone rang out from her coat in the entryway. Resigned to ignore it, she felt relieved when it stopped ringing. But then it started again. And it rang again. And again. She was mentally counting the number of missed calls. Two, three, four. Ben noticed her distraction and stopped kissing her.

“Should you get that?”

Emilie sighed, exasperated.

_Of course. This has better be important._

She lifted herself off the bed, and walked away from the still-clothed Benedict.

_I’ll have to change that when I get back._

Emilie walked to the entryway, reaching for her coat and fishing her phone out of the pocket. All of the missed calls were from Molly. Before Emilie could press the send button to call her back her phone began to buzz again. Molly’s name appeared on the caller ID.

“Hello?” Emilie said, using heavy restraint to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

There was crying from Molly’s end, “Em?”

“Molly? What’s wrong?”

“Devin is such a fucking arse!” She shouted. It was obvious the girl was very drunk, “He’s been fucking that stupid twat Chelsea since Halloween!”

The couple had apparently gotten into a heated argument on Halloween, with Molly leaving to return to their flat early. Apparently Devin had found comfort with the aforementioned Chelsea.

“Jesus, Mols. Are you okay?” Emilie sat onto the small chair next to the console table. Just then Ben came around the corner, and casually leaned against it, listening intently. Emilie mouthed ‘I’m sorry!’ to him. He shook his head and gave her a small reassuring smile.

Molly gave another sob, “I don’t even know where the fuck I am!” So she was much more drunk than Emilie realized. Molly was a London native, and had helped Emilie navigate her way home over the phone more than once. She had made the girl swear on her life never to tell Ben.

“Shit, well try to find an intersection,” Emilie told her. She noted Ben had made his way to her, he crouched down and began to listen.

“Is she okay?” He whispered.

Emilie shook her head, “She’s lost, and wasted.”

“Should we go get her?” He asked. Emilie paused. Ben’s kindness never failed to take her by surprise. 

 ...

Ten minutes later and the fully dressed Emilie was trying to keep Molly on the phone while Benedict drove them through London.

“No, don’t go back into the pub Molly,” she said, sighing.

“But I want more alcohol, I want to get pissed and forget I ever met that twat!”

Ben began chuckling as her overheard Molly yelling into the phone.

“Just wait by the door, we’re coming down the street.”

When they eventually spotted Molly, sitting on the pavement and shouting abuse at random passersby, Emilie turned to Benedict.

“I’m so sorry.”

Ben turned to her with a wide smile, pulling to the curb, “Don’t be, I’m still with you.”

“But our night – “

“Isn’t over yet,” he winked, before stepping out of the car and walking towards the belligerent Molly.

 ...

“Mols, I need you to help me. You can’t sleep on the stairs.”

“ButIwanna,” Molly mumbled, shaking off Emilie’s hand.

Emilie let out a large sigh before quickly grabbing Molly’s arm and hoisting it around her own neck. The weight wasn’t too much to bear, but Emilie was definitely regretting telling Ben to wait in the car. She struggled for a moment before she heard someone approach them from behind.

“You look like you could use some help,” Ben chuckled.

Eventually they made it to the flat, and Molly finally agreed to get into her bed. But not before turning to the pair of them.

“I’m sorry I ruined your shag-night.”

Ben and Emilie both laughed, but Emilie could feel the blood rushing to her face.

“Goodnight Molly,” Emilie said, shutting the door and turning to Ben.

“Again, I’m so sorry,” she said, burying her face in his chest. Ben laughed lightly, wrapping his arms around her.

“ _Again,_ don’t apologize.” He took one of his fingers and placed it under her chin, tilting her face towards him, “Although, our night isn’t completely ruined…”

“Oh?” she smiled, leaning in to kiss him.

“Mmmhm,” he mumbled against her lips. They began to walk backwards, lips locked and giggling as they bumped into the wall and doorframe of Emilie’s bedroom. Finally, she pushed him backwards onto her bed, crawling on top of him.

“Now, where were we?” she asked, beginning to unbutton Ben’s shirt, kissing bare skin as it was revealed.

“Amazing,” he sighed, closing his eyes.

Then, just as Emilie reached the final button and began to fiddle with his belt, Ben’s phone began to ring.

“Fuck’s sake!” Ben said, scrambling to get off the bed. He grabbed his phone from his coat pocket and sighed.

“I have to take this, it’s my publicist. Two seconds, I promise,” he said, giving her a deep kiss before rushing from the room. She heard him answer with a clear tone of irritation.

 ...

“Yes, yes, I understand,” Ben said impatiently, glancing at the clock on Emilie’s wall. It had already been ten minutes. He had hardly registered any of the conversation about the interview schedule for next week, and something about the premiere.

“Are trying to rush me? I’m sorry but I need to confirm everything, and you need to approve it as well, Ben,” His publicist, Karen, huffed.

“I’m sure it’s all fine, I trust your expertise, now may I go to bed?” Ben asked hurriedly. The woman sighed, “Fine, but when there’s a problem I’m blaming you.”

“Yes sure,” he said, hanging up before she could reply.

He hurried back to Emilie’s room, a smile on his face as he could not wait to resume their activities.

“I’m sorry that took…,” the words died on his lips as his eyes fell upon Emilie’s sleeping figure on top of her bed.   

Ben paused, taking in the view for moment. As disappointed he might be, Ben had missed the image of her looking so peaceful in her sleep. He carefully undressed, locating the sleepwear he had opted to leave at Emilie’s flat for such occasions.

He then moved to her closet, finding a blanket to cover her. He loved the way her blankets felt, well-worn and soft, with the scent that he had come to know (and often miss) as Emilie. He slowly pulled the blanket over her shoulders, before crawling into bed next to her.  

“Goodnight , darling,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwww. I hate when friends twat-swat :(


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeee! So glad I got this out finally! First 'smut' writing so I hope its ok.  
> I've been spending some time reviewing and revising the previous chapters, so that also slowed the process down.  
> As always, any tips are appreciated :)

The sound of the front door closing the next morning roused Emilie from her sleep.  She took a moment to recall the events from last night (or lack thereof). Disappointment washed over her; the night had not gone the way the pair of them had hoped. She glanced at the clock on her night table, noticing Molly must have left for her shift at the coffee shop.  She let out a sigh, stretching her whole body as she arched her back off the bed.

“Please, do that again,” Ben’s voice came from beside her. She turned to see him facing her. A smile played on his bowed lips, and his eyes had a mischievous glint to them.

“I didn’t realize you were awake,” she winked, stretching once again. His eyes raked themselves down her body.

“I’ve been awake for a while,” he said, inching towards her.

“You hungry? I actually went to the shop this week,” Emilie said, starting to sit up. Ben shot his arm out, wrapping it around her waist and pinning her to the bed.

“Not hungry for that,” He murmured before kissing her deeply. Emilie reciprocated, running her fingers through Ben’s hair. He responded with a moan, pulling her on top of him and clutching at the hem of her tee. Emilie ground her hips gently into Ben, whose hands slowly made their way under her shirt.

The combination of the intense kiss with the feeling of Ben’s large warm hands on her skin sent shivers down her spine, and she let out an audible moan as he cupped her breasts. She stopped long enough to pull her shirt over her head, fully exposing herself to him.  His look of appreciation combined with him biting his lower lip raised her arousal.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, before grasping her hips and flipping her on her back so he was now above her. He gave her breasts a gentle squeeze, teasing each nipple with his thumb, eliciting soft moans and sighs from her throat.

“Christ, those noises,” he muttered as he lowered his head to her breasts, kissing and licking while his hand played at the hem of her panties. She raised her hips in response, and Ben looked up with a smirk, “So eager.” He began to move down her torso, his lips leaving a trail of kisses. He stopped just below her navel, and stood on his knees. “I want you naked, now”, he growled, before grabbing her panties and moving them down her legs. 

“Well, what about you?” Emilie teased, reaching out for him. Ben moved before she could touch him, and she let out a soft whine.

“Not yet,” he said softly before settling between her legs. He flashed her one last grin before placing gentle kisses down her thighs and sucking gently on her hipbone before his tongue gave a gentle lick to her wetness. “Yes…”, Emilie could feel her pulse in her groin as she sighed and felt her eyelids go heavy.

She closed her eyes as she felt his mouth cover her, his tongue moving in ways she had never experienced with anyone else before, causing various noises and sounds of pleasure to escape her throat. Ben reached one hand out to softly squeeze Emilie’s breast, causing her to writhe and roll her hips to his rhythm. She could feel her orgasm coming on with each wave of pleasure, each lap of Ben’s tongue, until she reached the tipping point. She grasped the sheets of her bed in both hands, calling out his name between strangled breaths.

“You taste amazing,” Ben said, crawling over her once again. Emilie smiled at him, her hands trailing down his bare chest, a single finger slipping under the waistband of his boxers.

“Why are these still on?” she said, giving the elastic a slight tug. He smiled before shifting his weight and pulling them off. He captured her lips once more, and Emilie’s hands found their way to his groin. Ben moaned into the kiss as soon as her fingers wrapped around him. Slowly she began stroke him, eliciting more carnal noises from him.

“On your back, now,” she commanded, to which Ben was eager to comply. He spread out on her bed, and Emilie took the time to gaze appreciatively at his body before settling between his legs. Ben groaned as she wasted no time in taking him fully into her mouth, her tongue swirling around his head while her hands massaged his base.

“Ohjesus..Uh-Em,” Ben moaned, hardly able to form words, his hands found their way to her hair, giving a light tug. He groaned again as Emilie found a rhythm he liked.

“Christ, wait, I don’t want to come yet,” he says, and Emilie stops, slowly moving her lips back up his length, giving his head another good flick with her tongue. He gently grabs her by the shoulders, guiding her back up to him and kisses her lips.

“You are awfully good at that,” he says, receiving a shrug from her.

Suddenly Ben grasped Emilie’s hips and flipped her over, grabbing both of her hands in one of his own, pinning her arms above her head. He smiled playfully as he ground his pelvis against hers, causing a blissful sensation to once again course through her body.  

“Ben…” she whispered, grinding her hips against him, begging. He pauses, looking down at her, “Do you have a…?”

Emilie looked puzzled for a brief second before saying “Oh!” and reaching over to her night table. Molly had left a box of them on Emilie’s bed with a neat little bow several days ago as a joke (“Your first Brit!”), now Emilie was thanking her internally.

She handed the packet to Ben, who made quick work of putting it on. He crawled back on top of her, and kissed her deeply as he entered her. He moaned into her lips as he filled her completely, and Emilie couldn’t contain herself from making her own noises as he began to move inside her.

“Christ, Em, you feel amazing,” he groaned, burying his face into her neck. His lips latched onto the soft skin of her neck as Emilie began to move her hips in motion with the rhythm. He kept a steady, pace, turning and dipping his hips into her in such a way Emilie could feel the inevitable building tension of her orgasm.  She raked her nails along his backside, causing him to groan audibly with pleasure. Ben buried his hand into her mess of hair (which was most definitely matted in the back by now) and gave a slight tug, causing Emilie to gasp. Her noise was muffled by his lips meeting hers once more, his tongue exploring her mouth. She nibbled his lower lip, her hands now running along the muscles of his arms. She was getting closer now, the waves of pleasure becoming more frequent and powerful.

“Ben, I’m close…” she sighed, arching her back off the bed and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Come, darling,“ he breathed into her ear, his voice sounding thick with emotion. As she reached her climax she sank her teeth into his shoulder, moaning. A few seconds later Ben followed with an audible, pleasure-filled groan. He sank into her, so that she was surrounded by him. He placed gentle kisses all around her face before finally settling on her lips. The kiss was incredibly sweet and gentle, and it made Emilie’s heart swell with affection for him.

 “That was…” she started, a euphoric smile spreading across her face.

“…fucking incredible,” he finished with a laugh. She nestled into his side, her bare leg draped lazily over his waist and her arm over his chest, his hand  came to rest on her leg, gently stroking the soft skin with his thumb.

They lay like that for a while, with Emilie’s head resting on his should and Ben’s cheek on her head.

“I’m sorry that didn’t happen last night,” Emilie said softly. Ben’s hand’s stopping stroking her leg and he lifted his head to look at her.

“Don’t be sorry, if anything this was just as phenomenal.”

Emilie began to look down, breaking the eye contact but Ben’s fingers reached out and tilted her face to him again.

“Really, you are fucking phenomenal Em," he said, placing another kiss to her lips. 

Despite Emilie's reluctance to agree with that statement, she could tell Ben meant it. And for the moment, that's all that really mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and all of your support! It means a great deal!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie goes home for the holidays...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoaaa! Almost a month since an update! yikes! So sorry to keep you waiting!  
> This one is longer than the last, and I've already started and nearly finished with the next chapter :)

“So, I take it you’ll be in Iowa for the holidays?” Ben asked one December evening. The couple was currently nestled in his bed, basking in the afterglow of yet another lovemaking session (it had been a very ‘active’ few weeks). Ben’s schedule had settled, at least for the moment and Emilie was preparing for winter break.

“Yeah, but only for two weeks.  I’ll be back on the 28th, or at least that’s when my flight leaves from Chicago,” she said, pausing to look up at Ben. He was staring at the ceiling with a contemplative look.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I wanted to know…that is…would you be my date for New Year’s?” he asked. His stumbling made her giggle.

“Are you worried I might say no? I’ll have to clear my schedule with my _other_ boyfriend,” she teased.

“It’s just that…” he paused, “there will be a lot of my friends there. I really want you to meet them. Like Martin…Amanda…several others. They’ve been demanding to meet you for a while.”

_Ah. So that explains it._

“Of course,” she smiled.

Honestly, and surprisingly, the idea of meeting the people Ben called his friends was not incredibly daunting to Emilie. If they were anything like Benedict, she thought it would go really well. Now, on the other hand…

“And also…” Ben started again, “That day my parents were hoping to have lunch with you. They’ve been so eager to meet you. I’m worried my mum might show up on my doorstep if I don’t introduce you soon.”

“I’d love to,” Emilie said, hoping the sheer panic didn’t show on her face. No matter how well off she was with her boyfriend, meeting the parents would never not make her worry. Especially considering this particular mother and father duo.

“Great, mum will be so excited, she’ll probably make it into a big to-do, so I would skip breakfast.”

“Sure,” she said, still distracted. Ben hugged her closer, placing a chaste kiss on her temple.

“I’ll miss you when you’re gone,” he said.

“You leave all the time. You're the busy one, you literally have a bag always packed,” she laughed lightly, gesturing to the corner of his bedroom.

“Yeah, but I’ll be here, all alone. This time it’s _you_ leaving _me_.”

“Ha-ha, now you have a taste of your own medicine,” she teased, playfully poking his ribs. His face became serious.

“I’m sorry.”

“What? Why?”

“When you’re in a relationship you’re supposed to be together. I’m sorry,” he said, placing his long fingers under her chin, concern etched on his face.

“Ben,” she said, shaking her head and grasping his hand with hers, “I knew getting into this you wouldn’t be an on-demand boyfriend. It makes me treasure the days I am with you even more.”

“Nevertheless, I want to take you with me sometime.”

“Yeah? Really?”

“Of course,” he said, kissing her. When he pulled away, her eyes had a mischievous glint to them as she bit her lip. He knew that look, he couldn’t resist it.

“When’s your interview tomorrow?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Nine. Which gives us,” he said, glancing at the clock on his bedside table, “about nine hours for me to give you something to be thinking about all day while I’m away.”

“I don’t think it’ll be too hard,” Emilie gasped as Ben’s lips found their way to her neck. 

* * *

 

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine,” Emilie sighed, watching London move past her cab window.

“No, it’s not, I wanted to take you to the airport,” Ben groaned.

“I know you did,” Emilie said, struggling to keep the disappointment from her voice. Ben had promised to see her off after having cancelled their last two dates. Only now he’d called to say something else had come up. Or something had run over time, or whatever.

“Em, I know it’s not fine.”

“Well...no. It would have been nice to see you...it’s...frustrating.”

“I know, I know. Fuck I really hate my job sometimes. I’m so incredibly sorry,” Ben said, his voice sounding pained.

Emilie softened a little bit, “Don’t worry about it, I still have Molly to see me off,” at this point the raven-haired (and hung over) woman leaned over in the backseat and interjected a ‘Hullo Benny! You’re welcome!’

“But it should have been me,” he replied darkly.

“Well, it definitely would have been a...better cab ride,” Emilie said, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh?”

“More eventful is another way you could describe it.”

Ben chuckled on the other end, making Emilie confident he wouldn’t beat himself up over this for the next week.

“I didn’t realize you were into that sort of thing, Miss Bishop.”

“I guess you missed out then, huh?”

“There’s always next time,” he replied, the tone of his voice significantly deeper.

“If you’re lucky-“

“Fuck’s sake! I can hear you two arseheads!” Molly yelled, putting an end to the flirtation. Emilie put a hand up.

“I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” 

* * *

 

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe it,” Ben said, shaking his head at his screen with a bemused smile on his lips.

“Well believe it, I actually caved and put on a heavy winter coat _and_ a hat. It was my mom’s but still.”

“But _you’re never cold_ ,” Ben replied, mimicking Emilie’s voice. The impression made her laugh. She had never worn a heavy jacket since fall and winter had descended upon London. She was rarely chilled, much to Benedict’s disbelief. She always attributed it to being a warm-blooded Midwesterner.

“Well, us Midwesterners have to brave actual freezing temperatures, snow, ice, and wind. We don’t usually get rain in December. We get blizzards, it puts hair on one’s chest” she said, patting her torso with her palm for extra measure.

“Right, thank you for that mental image,” he chuckled, “But I recall you were just saying how much you missed London.”

“True, you got me,” she shrugged.

“So, how’s the family?” They had met via Skype two days ago, and were immediately taken by him.

“Oh,” she sighed, “y’know, everyone’s passed out from overindulgence. It was my mother’s family gathering tonight and that side of the family is borderline alcoholic. Cristine is just passed out because she’s pregnant and always tired.”

“You didn’t enjoy yourself though?”

To answer Ben’s question she raised a glass, swirling with dark liquor and winked at him, “I’m taking my time. Someone had to herd the cats.” He chuckled.

“What about you?” she asked, “Are you going to see your parents?”

“I saw them today actually. Mum is really excited for lunch. She was worried you were a vegetarian.”

“I hope you assured her I’m an avid carnivore.”

“Of course, I’m well aware of your desire for meat,” he winked, to which Emilie responded by snorting with laughter and choking on her drink.  When she recovered, Ben’s face was plastered with an admiring smile, and seeming pretty pleased with himself.

“I adore you,” he said.

“Even looking like I do in the mornings?”

“Especially looking like you do in the mornings. After I’ve ravaged you.”

“Hmm, just a few more days until you can do it all over again.”

 

* * *

 

Iowa winters had always been a ridiculous and usually infuriating bag of unpredictable weather. The previous day had seen snow accumulation of five inches with the winds whipping it around in Emilie’s face enough to make her eyes sting and cause her to utter a long string of curse words as she shoveled her parent’s driveway. Today, however, the weather gods saw fit to bless the area with a bright, 30 degree day. Which meant it was a perfect day (by Midwestern standards) to be out for a winter stroll. Emilie was currently walking through the small wooded area behind her parent’s house, her aging family dog Rex trotting alongside her.   

She had always loved coming to the woods. In her younger years she had spent hours climbing trees and exploring the ‘mysterious’ forest with her friends. As a rebellious (or stupid) teenager, her group of friends would use it as the perfect spot to smoke cigarettes and drink from a liquor bottle one of them had pilfered from a parent.

She walked slowly with a measured pace, keeping her face titled towards the warm sun. Her boots crunched noisily in the snow, which had remained serene and unbroken by footsteps until Emilie's. She paused when she came to a clearing and brushed some snow off the trunk of a fallen tree. Emilie sat with a sigh, to which Rex immediately responded by placing his head upon her knee. She smiled at him, patting his head with a gloved hand, giving him a “good boy.”

Another good use for the woods was that it was a great place to be alone with her thoughts, away from her noisy and inquisitive family. She closed her eyes and titled her head back, letting the sun that poked through the branches warm her face. In that moment she felt a small pang of sadness at the thought of having to leave in less than a week.

In less than a week she would be back in London, and back to Ben.

They hadn’t spoken much since their last conversation, with Ben having some more interviews and appearances to do for the new upcoming series of _Sherlock_ right after the holiday. He had grown increasingly excited about it; telling Emilie he wanted to watch the premiere with her on New Year’s Day.

“You’ll finally be able to stop asking me how Sherlock survived!” he’d joked.

She was incredibly excited about the idea of having Ben to herself for several uninterrupted days. Spending a long and continuous amount of time together had been rare for the couple, and it would probably not get any better in the near future since Ben would be in Los Angeles for the vast majority of January.

Upon remembering this fact Emilie’s mood darkened a bit, and suddenly she felt much colder than she did a moment ago. She stood from sitting upon the overturned tree and whistled to Rex, who was busy sniffing around the trees.

Smiling at his snow-covered face, she asked, “Ready to go boy?”

Even though the thought of Ben leaving once again weighed heavily on her mind, she decided that the time to be sad couldn’t be now. It would not be too long before she was yearning to be in Iowa and surrounded by her (sometimes exhausting) family, and so she began walking with a quickened pace towards her childhood home to do just that. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's almost time for Emilie to return to London, as she contemplates her relationship with Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWO chapters in less than a week?! Go me! I think I have a solid idea of where I want the next few chapters to go so hopefully my brain works well enough for me to be able to put those ideas into text!!

“When do you leave again?” Ben asked sounding slightly exasperated a few days later over the phone. Despite their best efforts to stay in constant contact, the pair was counting down the days until they could see (and touch) the other again. 

The text messages sent between them were mostly dirty and flirtatious, which made Emilie’s face redden since she was usually in the presence of her family. And the smile that was always impossible to resist was always met with a “Why are you smiling like a crazy person?” from her mother. Her sister would always glance in her direction with a knowing smirk.

“Day after tomorrow,” Emilie said, popping yet another chocolate peanut cluster (her favorite Christmas treat) into her mouth, “But tomorrow Cris volunteered to drive and stay in Chicago for the night with me since my flight is so early. We’re going to have a sister night.”

“That sounds lovely. How is Cristine?”

Emilie began to reach for another cluster, but decided against it and pushed the box across the bed.

“She’s good mostly. Getting _very_ pregnant and keeps complaining about her back, she still has till February. I think it’s a curse for the women in our family to balloon to enormous sizes during pregnancy. Looking at pictures of my mom from when she was pregnant with me you would have sworn it was twins. It makes me worry for me when it’s my turn.” She paused.

_Was that weird to say?_

She hadn’t meant to imply anything. Truthfully, Emilie was always on the fence with having children. She’d always thought it would depend on who she married. Plus the horror stories Cristine  _insisted_ on telling her about her first birth always made her stomach turn. 

Benedict chuckled, but Emilie detected some hesitation before he spoke. He cleared his voice.

“So, you’ve thought about having kids then?” he asked in an odd tone; like a mixture of hopefulness that was trying to be masked with normal, conversational curiosity. But she was probably just imagining things.  Emilie shrugged, even though he couldn’t see.

“I suppose if I’m happy and have a stable life and the right person to have kids with. You never know.”

Before Ben could say anymore Cristine popped her head into the doorway, a giggling Aiden balancing on her hip.

“Mom says lunch is ready, she’s having a cow because you haven’t set the table - is that Benedict? Hi Benedict!” she said, leaning in to say it loudly into the phone. Aiden made a 'whoooaaa!' sound as he was tilted around.

“Tell her I said hello,” Ben said bemused.

“He says go away,” Emilie told her, waving her sister away, receiving a ‘Hey!’ from Ben. The elder Bishop rolled her eyes.

“Well, you better hurry before Mom comes up and tries to talk his ear off,” Cristine said before disappearing again. Emilie heard her elder sister yell ‘I know! I told her! Keep your pants on Mom!’

“Well,” Emilie said, rolling off her tiny bed, “I better let you go.”

“Right, well...goodbye love. I miss you.”

"I miss you too."

"And for what it's worth, I'm sure you would be a beautiful mother."

* * *

 

“Soooo, how are you and Ben?” Cristine asked the next night, popping another Starburst into her mouth. The sisters were currently sprawled out on Emilie’s hotel bed in front of the TV, with an assortment of American junk food Emilie had yet to come across in London. 

“Mmmm, fine,” Emilie replied thickly. Her mouth was currently full of chocolate almond bar.

“Just fine? Em, seriously. You’re dating _Benedict Cumberbatch_. Khan. Sherlock. Smaug-”

“Yes, I’m aware of what roles my boyfriend has played,” she said smirking.

“Emilie,” Cristine warned. Emilie sighed, knowing her sister’s stubbornness (something Emilie also shared) would not let it drop. She was really hoping to avoid talking about it. Things were really great between the two of them. Almost too great. She had learned with Alex what ‘too good’ meant in a relationship.

“What can I say? We’re still in our honeymoon phase, which is about,” she looked up to ceiling, calculating the time they had been together, “Three months longer than Alex and I’s lasted.” There hadn’t been a honeymoon phase with her and Alex.

Cristine smiled lightly, “Well, when you two started as badly as you did, your next relationship is guaranteed to be leaps and bounds better.” This was true. Emilie and Alex had been the other’s ‘late-night summons’ for several months before they had committed to the other. And it was only after Emilie found out just how many other girls (several) there had been. This had sparked a fight, causing Alex to yell ‘Well then be my fucking girlfriend!’ Not a great way to begin a relationship.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Emilie replied, digging into the can of Pringles.

“He seems nice. Sophisticated. I guess with a name like that its part of the package though.”

“Ha, true.”

Cristine let out a groan, stretching out against the pillows and rubbing her swollen belly.

“So, things are great. Does this mean you’re going to ditch us and live in London with your superstar sweetheart?”

“I haven’t thought about the long term yet. We haven't been together that long.”

“So, he hasn’t said ‘I love you’? I thought you were meeting his parents?”

“I am. And I’ll be meeting his friends soon too, but I don’t know if he feels that way yet, or if he ever will,” Emilie was beginning to blush. 

“You're meeting his parent and his friends, if he doesn’t already, he will,” she said matter-of-factly.

And for once, Emilie hoped her sister would be right.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie finally returns to London, and receives a warm welcome from Benedict. Smut smut smutty smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh go me! ANOTHER chapter! :) There might be a longer wait for the next one, but I definitely have a solid idea for the next few chapters so hopefully not too long.

Emilie’s flight back to London was mostly spent with her headphones in her ears and her head against the window in a near-comatose state (thanks to a borrowed dose of Ambien from her mother, Emilie abhorred traveling). It had been a ridiculously early flight (6 am was an atrocious time of day to be awake in the middle of winter) so Emilie was all too happy to spend the entire eight hours in and out of consciousness.  

Despite having left Chicago before the sun had even come up, by the time they prepared to land in London it was already nighttime. Nine o’clock according to her phone.

 

_Freaking timezones_

 

Being well-rested and the fact that she was only a cab ride away from Benedict meant Emilie was wide awake and eager to get off the plane as soon as possible. It took every ounce of willpower for Emilie to not shove and push her way out of the plane.

 

**_Hey you, just landed, grabbing my bag. See you soon! xx_ **

 

It was less than a minute before her phone buzzed:

****

_I cannot wait. xx_

 

Then, thirty seconds later:

 

_I hope you’re not wearing anything expensive because it is getting ripped off your body the moment I see you._

Ben’s last reply made her let out a small noise of excitement as her face broke out into a wide grin. She walked as fast as she could through the airport and out to the street to frantically wave down a cab. She decided to forgo the side trip to drop her luggage at her flat and instead gave the cabbie Ben’s address.

* * *

 

Emilie all but punched the buzzer button at Benedict’s building, and ran (as fast as she could since but was still weighed down by luggage) up the stairs to his door.  Once she reached it, she took a beat to catch her breath and try to make her face as nonchalant as possible, even though she was absolutely trembling with anticipation. Breathing deep, she knocked quickly. It was barely a half a second later when Ben’s door whipped open and he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her inside.

Immediately Emilie found herself pressed against the wall, Ben’s lips attacking her own, his tongue begging her entrance to her mouth. She was more than happy to comply, moaning deeply into the kiss. She pressed her body against his, feeling his arousal against her belly. She sighed as his hands ran through her hair, and he groaned when she nipped his lower lips with her teeth.

“Christ, I’ve missed you,” he breathed, pausing for a moment to look at her. There was no doubt in Emilie’s mind that peering into those eyes would never not make her heart swell and her knees go weak.

“Why don’t you show me how much you missed me by taking me to the bedroom?” she replied, grinning at him.

“No, fuck it,” he said, and his hands on her hips were her only warning as he lifted her onto the small console table against the wall. Emilie barely registered that its surface hadn’t been empty the last time she had seen it before Ben’s lips latched onto her collarbone while his hands went to work on the zipper of her jeans. Emilie responded in kind, her fingers making their way to his belt, expertly undoing the buckle. She paused a moment to let Ben tug off her jeans. As the fabric slid down her legs, he dropped to his knees, kissing the soft skin as it was exposed.  

Once the jeans were removed, he started his journey over again, leaving a trail of kisses from her ankle to her thigh. He stopped just long enough to throw Emilie a grin at her choice of knickers (black lace, she had planned ahead) before removing them and tossing them aside. His fingers immediately went to work, parting her folds as his thumb graced her pressure point, eliciting a soft moan from Emilie as she pulled him in for a kiss. Her head began to spin as he moved his fingers inside her with to a wonderful rhythm. Before it went too far, she grabbed his wrist.

“Not yet,” she whispered.

In one quick motion she reached for the partially undone fly of his jeans and quickly finished the job, pushing aside the fabric of his boxers and taking the bare flesh in her hand. Ben moaned as she began to stroke him gently.

It only took a moment before either of them could not wait any longer, so Emilie wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms coming to rest on his shoulders as his own hands firmly gripped her hips. They both groaned as he slid into her, capturing each other's lips in a fervent kiss.

They began to move in a swift and even pace, each thrust stronger than the last. His grip on Emilie’s hips tightened as she raked her nails down his back. Ben buried his face in her neck as she threw her head back. She bit her lip just as her muscles contracted with her orgasm.  She felt him follow her shortly after, his lips latching onto the soft skin of her neck.

They stayed motionless for a moment, Emilie’s face buried in Ben’s chest while they both worked to catch their breath. Emilie began to laugh to herself.

“What is it?” Ben asked, looking down at her.

“I can’t help but wonder...” she said, biting her lip and giving him a smile, “is that how you treat everyone that comes to your door?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie finally meets Ben's parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I've been crazy busy lately with grad classes and life in general. Thanks for all of the support! The comments and support, it helps keep me going!!! :)

“What about here?” Ben asked, holding the frame up against the wall in his bedroom. He glanced back at Emilie, who stood at the end of the bed he was balancing on. She paused, considering it for a moment, “Do you really want it in _here_?”

“Where would you put it?”

She paused, and then grinned, “Above the console table.”

Ben chuckled, “I’m sensing you have a fondness for that table now.”

Emilie shrugged, giving him a coy smile. He stepped off his bed, looking down once more to admire the pen and water colour painting Emilie had made for him as a Christmas gift. She had presented it to him on the night of her return, and Ben had been stunned.

 

“I didn’t know you did this,” he’d said breathlessly.

“I haven’t had much inspiration for a long time,” she’d replied, eyeing him warily.

His admiration had made Emilie’s nerves settle, having been worried that it would look more like a child’s art project than an actual piece done by an adult. It was a painting of the London Eye done in the ‘whimsical’ way that marked all of Emilie’s past artwork, to commemorate their first date. It had actually been her dream to be an artist, but the competitive nature of her university’s graphic arts program left her uninspired and burnt out. It was only after helping a fellow artist with a children’s art class that she’d become drawn to teaching.

 

“Okay, you win, entryway it is,” Ben said, giving her a peck on the cheek, “Why don’t you hang it while I fix lunch?”

“Deal,” she smiled, taking the frame from him and making her way downstairs, followed by Ben.

Emilie busied herself with centering the frame so it hung just right with relation to the table; she could hear the sounds of Ben fumbling around in the kitchen. When she was satisfied with the placement, she placed the nail against the wall, and readied the hammer. As it came forward, there was a loud crash from the kitchen, which startled Emilie, who promptly smacked her thumb with the hammer.

“Fuck!” she yelped rather loudly, immediately holding her now pulsating appendage with her other hand.

“Everything okay?” Ben said, his head peering around the corner, followed by “Oh shit” when he realized what happened. He quickly made his way over to her, taking his hand in hers.

“It’s fine, just got startled when - wait, what was that noise?” Emilie asked, wincing when Ben gently touched her thumb.

“Dropped a plate or two. Here, let’s put some ice on this,” he said, leading her into the kitchen where he insisted she sit. He turned and began digging for ice in the freezer.

“It’s fine really,” she said, slightly amused at his assertion, “I’ll probably just end up with a fat blood blister.”

“Here,” he said, handing her a handful of ice wrapped in a cloth, “Now I know not to let you take care of the handy work around the home.”

“Does this mean I shouldn’t let you take care of the cooking?” She responded, eyeing the broken plates.

He smiled, then gently took her hand in his. Even after several months of dating him, his touch never failed to make her heart flutter.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, examining her thumb.

“Only a little,” she said, so Ben lifted her hand and gave it a light kiss.

“Better?” He said with a smile.

She nodded.

He moved and placed a kiss on her wrist, then her forearm, continuing all the way up before kissing the sensitive spot on her neck. Emilie sighed softly.

“Better?”

“Getting there.”

* * *

 

Emilie smoothed out her blouse for the hundredth time, checking herself in the mirror.  Ben would be picking her up soon to drive to his parent’s house in Gloucestershire, and each passing moment filled her with a little more anxiety. He had been chatting excitedly about it nonstop since she returned to London, assuring her that he just _knew_ his parents would love her. But it did little to comfort her.

Emilie went to retrieve the planted orchid she had bought for Wanda.

She set the plant next to her keys, knowing she would probably shoot herself if she left it behind before returning to her mirror.

Emilie checked her reflection one more time, before grabbing the necklace off her night table and clasping it around her neck. She touched the small locket, smiling at the gift Ben had presented to her the previous night. It had been something Emilie had eyed in a vintage shop during one of their wandering excursions in early December. She’d been surprised he had remembered it.

“I may have bought it on the sly when you were asking about that armoire,” he’d remarked, looking quite proud of himself.

 

Ben rang as Emilie fished around for her shoes beneath her bed.

“Hello?” she said, trying to extend her arm.

“Hello darling, are you ready?”

“Yeah, just getting my shoes. They somehow ended up wedged under my bed.”

“The bed, hmm? Do you need any help?” Despite the innocent sounding question, Emilie picked up on his meaning.

“ _No_ , no, you stay down right where you are.”

* * *

“Em, stop fidgeting,” Ben said, taking Emilie’s hand and kissing her knuckles.

“Sorry,” she said, relaxing when Ben’s lips made contact with her skin. Though this was only temporary, as Emilie could feel her chest tighten and her stomach turn as they made a final turn, and the little cottage Ben’s parents called home came into view.

“Here we are,” Ben mused as he turned off the engine.  She took one last breath before opening the door. A lot of thoughts rushed through Emilie’s head as she straightened herself up, hoisting the plant on her hip.

_I should have worn the cardigan._

_Did I put on too much perfume?_

_Why did I think leaving my hair down was the right choice? I’ll shed like a dog._

_Lilies would have been better._

She glared at the plant, which suddenly looked ridiculous to her.

They hardly made it halfway up the walkway before the front door of the cottage opened, and out stepped the woman who couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else other than Benedict’s mother, Wanda Ventham. The same piercing blue eyes as Ben’s immediately made contact with Emilie’s, and her face broke into a warm smile. Timothy, whom Ben was the spitting image of, followed closely behind her.

“There she is,” Wanda commented, embracing Emilie, “If Ben had kept you from us much longer, we’d have thought he had invented you.”

Emilie laughed, “I’m glad I could clean his name up a little.”

“Yes, every little bit helps doesn’t it? Well you best come inside,” she said, gently taking the plant from Emilie’s arm, “the roast is almost ready. Benedict, why don’t you show Emilie around while I set the table?”

“Oh you remembered I’m here too?” Ben chided playfully, ducking to step inside the home.

* * *

“Your mum really likes owls,” Emilie said. She’d definitely picked up on the abundance of barn owls around the home on their tour, though to be fair the photos of Benedict in his school years were definitely more interesting.

“Yeah, bit random I know,” Ben said, scratching his neck. She smiled, examining his bedroom. The decorating had job clearly being one of Wanda’s, the small room done in florals and mostly dominated by the full size wrought-iron bed, complete with several stuffed owls on a hanging shelf near the door.

“I think it’s lovely. Now the owl in your living room makes a lot more sense.”

Ben chuckled. Emilie turned again to examine a few more photos hanging on the wall.

“I didn’t know you played trumpet,” she commented, touching the photo.

“Where do you think I got my ridiculous mouth from?”

“Can you still play?” she asked, smiling over her shoulder. He shrugged, “Not nearly as well.”

Emilie sighed turning back to him, “I barely remember any of the songs from when I played clarinet, maybe the song from _Batman_ but that’s about it.”

“Well you’re still quite talented with your tongue - Ow!” he whined when Emilie pinched his arm.

“Shhh! My god! We’re _in your parents’ house_ ,” she scolded. It did little to damped the mischievous grin on Ben’s face.

“Benedict dear?” Wanda called from the bottom of the steps, “Lunch is ready.”

“After you,” Ben said, and as Emilie walked in front of him, he made sure to give her bum a pinch, earning himself a light smack on the arm while she failed to hide her smile.

* * *

It was a truly remarkable thing to be in the presence of Ben’s parents, a couple that had been together just as long as her own parents. They were older in age, sure, but the way they interacted and sparred playfully with one another was not unlike a much younger couple. The love that radiated from the pair of them fixed a permanent smile upon Emilie’s face. The cripplingly strong drink Timothy had made Emilie was also probably contributing to it.

They had spent the last two hours stuffing their faces with the amazing home-cooked meal Wanda had prepared while both parents shared dozens of embarrassing stories of Ben as a child, much to Emilie’s amusement and Ben’s horror.

“So Emilie, Benedict tells us you’re a teacher?”

Emilie nodded, swallowing some of the pudding before answering, “Yes, right now I’m in a school in London, I teach math actually, though I’ve been stepping in for the literature teacher as well.”

“Oh, so you must love children then?” Wanda asked quizzically.

“Of course,” she smiled.

“Good, that’s very important,” she replied, an odd look in her eye.

Emilie noticed Ben let out a sigh and shoot his mother a look, which was waved off by her. Thankfully, and probably much to Ben’s relief, Timothy changed the subject.

“So will you be joining Ben in Los Angeles on his upcoming trip?” the man asked, taking Emilie’s empty glass and standing to refill it. The mention of the upcoming lengthy trip made Emilie’s chest tighten slightly with dread, though she didn’t show it.

“Oh, no, I’ll be back to school on Monday. Taking time off right after a break would be disastrous.”

“Shame, but I’ll be popping over to London a few times,” Wanda said, standing to clear the dishes from the table, Emilie followed suit and followed the woman to the kitchen with her plate, “Would you care to have a little ‘hen’s’ day? I despise shopping by myself since Tim has other work to do.”

“Oh I’d love to.”

“Bring your walking shoes,” Ben said, handing Emilie his plate with a ‘thank you’ before continuing, “Mum loves to dally in shops.”

“Only because I could never get you to stay in one spot when I took you with me!” Wanda called.

Emilie giggled as she brought the remaining plates into the kitchen and began rinsing them.

“I think we’ll do just fine.”

 

After lunch they had spent some more time looking through albums brimming with photographs of a young Benedict, who appeared to never run out of energy. Wanda regaled her with more (hilarious) stories of Ben’s youth, though Ben found this bunch of stories much more entertaining.

“I was a handful,” he remarked after Wanda recalled the story of him flushing a gold watch down the toilet when he was three.

“Yes, I hope you’ll be able to handle one like him,” Wanda said, earning yet another piercing look from Benedict, which Emilie pretended not to notice.

 

Soon it was time to go, and Emilie dreaded the idea of leaving Wanda’s and Timothy’s company. Since coming back to London, Emilie had been longing for the ‘home-like’ feeling she could only get when she was in Iowa. Today had been the perfect way to replenish that familial satisfaction. It was a great help that Ben’s parents were amazing company.

“I’ll call you dear to set up that date,” Wanda said, as she kissed Emilie on the cheek before pulling her son in to do the same. Emilie turned to hug Timothy, and vaguely noticed the muted exchange between Ben and his mother. Wanda pulled away from his ear with a wide grin, while Ben’s face reddened noticeably. “I’ll try,” Emilie heard him murmur. 

* * *

 

“See? I told you they’d love you,” Ben said, smiling as he turned the key in the ignition.

“They’re really great. Amazing how they managed to raise you,” she teased.

“It was quite the struggle,” he chuckled, reaching for her hand, “Mum seems quite taken with you.”

“That’s good.” Even though Emilie tried to be nonchalant, an enormous wave of relief washed over her. And to think, in just a few short hours she would be in nearly the same situation.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Emilie attend a NYE party. Somebody has revelations, Emilie sings and dances terribly.  
> Inspired by the song "Home" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros (one of my ALL TIME favorite songs. If you've never heard it, LOOK IT UP. I've had the fortune to see them live several times and they never disappoint)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably edit this more thoroughly later. So sorry if there is awkward phrasing, repetition, etc. I was just feeling quite inspired after hearing this song today and finally got around to finishing this damn chapter. Enjoy :)

“What?”

“Nothing...”

“Can I help you with something?” Emilie asked, smiling questioningly at Ben in the mirror.  The way he gazed so intently at her made her heart flutter and chills shoot down her spine. He paused, before seemingly snapping out of his reverie.

“I just enjoy watching you get ready...” He trailed off, resting his head against the doorframe and letting his gaze rake over her body. Emilie let out a tiny chuckle.

“Well, show’s over, we better get going,” she said, putting the mascara in her bag before pausing to look at him, “Are you ready?” Ben shrugged.

“I still need to choose a tie.”

Emilie sighed with fake exasperation, pushing him out of the bathroom and ignoring his protests, “I’m beginning to understand why you’re always late.”

“Yes, the façade has cracked, now you see my flaws,” Ben said sarcastically, striding over to his closet.

“Hmm, I’ll just be leaving then. Too much work,” she teased, packing her cosmetic’s bag into the overnight tote, having known they wouldn’t have time to make two stops before their night began.

“If I let you,” Ben said, holding up two ties for her to judge. Emilie considered for a moment, before walking over to him and gently taking the navy blue one from his hand. Without a word, she slung it around his neck and began fixing it into place.

“I didn’t know you could tie a tie,” Ben commented, his eyes watching her with a small smile on his face. Emilie shrugged with her own smile as she tightened it into a perfect knot.

“I’m full of surprises,” she replied, giving him a wink. Ben chuckled, but he seemed entirely distracted, his eyes roamed her face; as though deciding something.

Emilie could feel her heart pounding in her chest, a small whisper of hope.

“What?” she asked timidly. Without a word, Ben gently took her face in his hands, and pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss. It was far from the most passionate kiss they’d ever shared, but the pure affection behind this kiss was enough to make Emilie’s head spin when they parted. His hands lingered for a moment as he smiled warmly at her, his thumb stroking her cheek.

 “You look incredible. Let’s go have some fun,” he said simply, giving her forehead a kiss.

Despite feeling disappointed, Emilie followed him out of the room with a smile.

* * *

Ben was having a _great_ time, and so was Emilie apparently. Ever since they had arrived at the party Martin and Amanda were throwing at The Ivy, a spot that he worried he was going to oversell to Emilie, she had been whirled away to be entertained by his friends. They had made some contact in the past two hours, but it was never long before more of his friends (usually led Martin, Amanda, Simon, or Adam) would surround her and start a new conversation. And so far it appeared Emilie had made a stellar impression on them.

As he glanced across the overcrowded room, a smile played on his lips as he spotted her in deep conversation with a small group of people, Amanda and Simon included.

“Hello mate, having a good time?” Martin asked, clapping Ben on the back and snapping him out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat, “Yeah, great. You?”

“Pretty good,” Martin nodded, taking a sip of his drink, “though probably won’t be saying that come morning when I check our tab.”

Ben laughed lightly. Martin continued:

“So Emilie seems great, she has a wicked sense of humour.”

Ben nodded with a smile, his eyes finding her once more across the room. She glanced around the room briefly, smiling when her eyes found his before returning to her conversation.

Ben realized Martin was watching him with an amused look.

“Jesus Ben. Are you okay? Do you need a minute to cool down?” Martin laughed, jokingly fanning him with his cocktail napkin. Benedict shook his head laughing, “No you tit. I just really like her.”

Like. Like. That word didn’t really do his feelings justice. It had been something he’d been wrestling with for weeks.

“Well I sure as shit hope so. This one’s a catch mate, want my advice?”

“Not particularly, no” Ben smirked. Knowing his answer wouldn't matter.

“Well you're taking it. Try to keep this one around yeah?” Martin said, putting his hand on Ben’s shoulder, “She seems like she could keep up with you, even with your life being what it is now. Not only that, I haven’t seen you this chuffed in ages. You've even put on a few pounds.”

Ben nodded, “You know, you’re the second person to tell me that today. Telling me to keep her around, I mean.”

“Well it’s true. Every time I’ve seen you lately you seem _happy_. Clearly it’s because of that woman,” Martin continued, pointing at Emilie, who noticed and looked at Ben questioningly, “That or you found a new porn website. I'm inclined to think the former. She is eons better than the last woman you were slumming around with this summer.”

Ah, of course, Katia. Martin was referring to the very brief whirlwind romance Ben had with the model during their time in Ibiza. Katia had promised to break up with her businessman boyfriend, but had changed her mind upon returning to London. Martin had deemed it a dodged bullet for Ben.

“Yes, I know, she is incredible,” he said, hoping to steer the conversation away from Katia.

“I’m serious,” Martin said, standing closer and nearly spilling his drink. It was clearly going to be a rough morning for him the next day, “Katia was shit compared to her. Emilie is young, smart, and she’s a fucking school teacher. You know what that means,” he said, nodding and winking at Ben. He simply nodded back, pretending to understand whatever the hell Martin was talking about, hoping that would put an end to the conversation. 

It wasn’t that he didn't value Martin’s opinion, but having a discussion about his love life in this setting wasn’t very ideal. Which was why Ben had to stop himself from saying ‘Oh thank God’ out loud when he noticed Amanda approaching them.

“Hello boys,” Amanda said, stopping to put her arm around Martin, “What are we talking about?”

“I was just giving Ben some advice about Emilie,” Martin said matter-of-factly. Amanda smiled at the pair of them, “Come along darling,” she said, steering Martin away while casting Ben a knowing look. He took the opportunity to cross the room to his girlfriend, who threw her head back in laughter at something Simon had said. Her smile never failed to make his heart skip a beat.

“Hello love,” he greeted, planting a kiss on her cheek. He nodded hello to Simon.

“Hey you,” she beamed, “We were just talking about you.”

“Oh?”

“Yep, told her about the neutron cream,” Simon said, looking rather proud of himself. Emilie laughed again.

“Ah yes, that little gem,” Ben smiled, shaking his head amusedly. Before they could say anything else, a new song came on the speakers and Emilie’s hand clutched into Ben’s arm.

“I _looove_ this song!” she said, bouncing excitedly.  Ben had to admit, the whistling tune was very catchy, he was sure he’d heard it before, but he couldn't place the name.  Before he even thought to ask, Emilie had begun to drag him onto the temporary dance floor erected for just the evening.

Emilie clapped her hands to the beat as the opening lyrics began:

_Alabama, Arkansas_

_I do love my Ma and Pa_

_Not the way that I do love you..._

 

Emilie grabbed the end of his tie, leading an amused Benedict around while continuing to sing enthusiastically:

_Well holey-moley, me oh my_

_You’re the apple of my eye_

_Girl I never loved one like you_

 

Their fervent dancing began to attract more party-goers to the dance floor, some to join them and other to cheer and clap encouragingly.  As she continued to sing, Ben could not keep the glee from his face while watching her move her body off beat. She was a truly awful dancer (her own words, though the alcohol in her system clearly was telling her to go for it).   But the effort and care-free attitude that she was exuding was infinitely more attractive and endearing to Ben than anything else. He loved her slightly off-beat rhythm, and the way her hair was falling into her eyes as she danced around him. He loved the sound of her voice as she serenaded him; not just tonight but when he would occasionally catch her humming to herself or whistling a tune that typically unfamiliar and probably made up. He loved that even though her mouth was busy forming the words to the song, she still had a wide grin plastered on her face.

He loved her.

He _loved_ her. The revelation nearly stunned him and almost caused him to freeze right there on the dance floor as his girlfriend belted out the chorus with one hand over her heart and the other clasped in his:

_Ah, Home_

_Let me come home_

_Home is wherever I’m with you_

_Ah Home,_

_Let me come ho-o-o-me_

_Home is whenever I’m with you_

 

Ben’s heart swelled; his mind making a connection between his own relationship and the lyrics of the song. Being with Emilie was exciting but familiar, and it always filled him with a sense of peace and belonging. She felt like _home._ He pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist and leading her around the dance floor with gusto, earning a fit of giggles from Emilie. The crowd was now clapping along to the beat of the song, and Ben could hardly make out her singing from the cheering:

 

_Alabama, Arkansas_

_I do love my Ma and Pa_

_Moats and boats and waterfalls,_

_Alleyways and payphone calls..._

_Home is when I’m alone with you_

_Home is when I’m alone with you_

As the last notes of the song died out, they finally paused, Ben’s arms were still wrapped around her waist and Emilie was looking into his eyes. She dissolved into a sudden embarrassed fit of giggles, burying her face into his shoulder.  Ben kissed her head, letting out a light laugh. There he decided he would wait to tell her, when he was alone with her. As she held her head up again, beaming at him, he smiled back at her.

“I think I love that song now too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the music video, in case you didn't look it up before the chapter. The song isn't very NYE-ish, but it is definitely a beautiful song to serenade your hubby with 
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DHEOF_rcND8


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben finally says it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD. I AM SORRY I WAS AWAY FOR SO LONG. I promise this wont happen again.  
> Anyhow, this chapter was a bitch to write, so...I hope you enjoy it.

Benedict was flitting around his bedroom, checking his appearance in the mirror as he attempted (for the third time) to get his tie knot _just_ right. It was the night before he was to leave for LA for nearly a month, and he’d planned a very special night for him and Emilie.

Since New Year’s, he’d been waiting for a right moment to tell her he loved her, but each time he thought he’d have to courage, it would evaporate and he backed out.

 

The first time he tried to tell her was New Year’s Day, when Emilie was feeling the effects of one too many cocktails.

“I’m never drinking again,” she muttered from the other end of the couch. Ben was trying to read through a few emails, seeing as how he’d neglected any type of work the last 24 hours. He turned to look at her, and upon seeing her scrunched up face, he held out his hand.

“Come over here.”

Emilie groaned as she slowly sat up, but eventually lay down again with her head in his lap and Ben began gently stroking her hair.

“That feels incredible,” she sighed, a smile forming on her lips, “I love having you take care of me.”

The mention of the word ‘love’ sent shivers down Ben’s spine, as it had been all he’d thought about since last night. He watched her for a moment, taking in her now relaxed face, his eyes trailing over her body (which looked fantastic in a tank top and a pair of his own boxers), and finally smiling at the sound of the sighs that escaped her whenever his hand caressed her hair. He felt the words building up inside him as his adoration for her swelled to a peak.

“I love..." he started, but the words caught in his throat, "taking care of you."

 

The second time he’d chickened out was two days later over breakfast. They’d somehow entered into a contest about who could poach a better egg, after Emilie jokingly suggested they make eggs Benedict for breakfast, receiving a sarcastic 'haha' in return. 

“Mine is clearly better,” she said, taking another bite of the egg Benedict had prepared.

Ben paused a moment, swallowing his own bite. He had to admit that she really knew what she was doing, Although...

“Mmm, I think it’s a tie.”

He couldn’t let her off that easy.

“Well I still win,” Emilie said, putting down her fork and shrugging her shoulders, “because the tie goes to the girlfriend.”

Ben smiled, “Oh really?”

“It’s a well-known rule,” she said, nodding as she reached for her mug. Ben watched her, his smile never leaving his lips, the words ‘I love you’ threatening to spill from them. Emilie peered at him over her cup.

“What?” she asked.

He stood, placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, and felt his courage suddenly evaporate at her inquisitorial look.

“You’re right,” he said, “tie goes to the girlfriend.”

 

 He'd wanted to say it  _so_ many times after New Year's, but it just didn't feel quite right. No, that wasn't true. He was just a coward.

Ben checked his appearance once more in the mirror, drawing in a deep breath.

He would not chicken out tonight, tonight he would tell her.

 

 

Emilie was applying the finishing touches to her makeup when there came a loud buzz, signaling Ben’s arrival at her doorstep. She quickly touched the button to let him in before she returned to her room to fish out the heels that went perfectly with the form-fitting wrap dress she’d chosen for the evening.  Ben had not been very explicit with what he had planned for them, though he did recommend dressing up.

 

She walked out of her room as the door opened, her mouth widening into a smile, before she stopped short.

Instead of Ben standing in her doorway, Jack stood there, looking somewhat disconcerted to see Emilie. Being 5’8 herself, in her heels Emilie towered over his 5’7 frame.

“Oh, hi Emilie,” he said, digging his hands into his pockets.

“Hey Jack. You alright?”

He nodded, “Good yeah. I was just picking up Molly. We’re all going to the pub tonight.”

She smiled a little, feeling her face flush, “Sounds fun.”

Jack had been rather awkward around Emilie after he’d tried to ask her out again a month following Molly’s birthday (she hadn’t told Ben, or anyone really, but had politely told him she wasn’t ‘on the market’).  Ever since then, he’d scarcely made appearances around the flat and would always have bailed by the time Emilie would meet up with Molly.

He awkwardly cleared his throat, before becoming incredibly interested in the books on a nearby shelf.

 After a few uncomfortable moments in which Emilie pretended to look for something in her purse while Jack continued to seemingly memorize all of the titles on the bookcase, Molly finally emerged from her room as the apartment buzzer rang again. Emilie nearly knocked over the drinking glasses on the coffee table trying to race across the room to press the button.

“I’ll be right down - don’t come up!” she said shrilly, not giving Ben a chance to respond before yanking her coat off the rack, ignoring Molly’s amused stare at the obvious awkwardness that had flooded the room in the last few moments.

 

 

Ben paced nervously on the pavement, cigarette in hand, eager to get the evening started. The jitters he was currently experiencing were incredibly similar to how he’d felt on their first date, in what felt like ages ago.

His head snapped up as Emilie’s door opened, and he felt his chest seize upon seeing her. His broad smile matched hers as she bounced down the steps and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Good to see you,” she murmured into his neck. Her breath warmed his skin while at the same time sent shivers down his spine. She smelled incredible. Her perfume mingled with the scent that he had come to know and love as 'Emilie'. His Emilie.

“It’s good to see you love. You look stunning. New shoes?” He inquired, noting that the extra couple inches put Emilie at eye level with him.

Emilie’s figure was just one of the things he loved about her. She was not a petite little thing like most of the women he’d been surrounded with and sometimes casually dated in the last few years. She had the edges and curves of a woman, paired with a tall frame that only put her just four inches shorter than him. Not to mention she knew how to use it in the bedroom.

“I’ve had them a while, actually, I just never wear them. I don’t know why I wore them tonight. It’s fucking winter and I can barely maneuver in these things in bone-dry weather,” she said, gesturing to her feet while Ben chuckled.

He opened the door for her, “I suppose we’ll have to be extra close tonight then. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

She smiled as she ducked into the cab, “Just what I was hoping you would say.”

 

 

Tonight was apparently a very special occasion, as the restaurant they were currently in appeared to be a ‘members only’ establishment (doormen and checking lists and all - though Ben didn’t need to give his name). The lighting was dim, and the serving staff seemed very self-important (or hoity-toity, as Emilie’s mother would have said), and the menu didn’t have prices, just incredibly perplexing names of dishes Emilie had never heard of in real life. The situation put her nerves on edge; she was definitely uncomfortable in such a luxurious atmosphere. She’d felt wholly ashamed to give her coat to the checker at the front door, knowing it did not have any sort of glamorous label attached to it. She could still remember the day she’d picked it out at a vintage shop.

Emilie was too busy trying to recall ever being in a restaurant that came nearly as close to this one in terms of elegance (and probably price) to hear Ben ask her which wine she’d like.

“Emilie?”

She snapped her head up, “Oh, um. Whatever you think is best.”

_My whole outfit probably costs less than a meal here._

She glanced up from her menu to see Ben’s eyes fixated on her, a questioning look on his features.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

Emilie shifted a little in her seat, “No fine. What are you getting? I’ll probably just copy you, to be honest.”

Ben rattled off the name of some (expensive sounding) dish, and Emilie mindlessly agreed. She honestly could not remember being happier to see alcohol than when she spotted the server walking up with their bottle.

_That'll help._

As soon as he filled their glasses and walked away, Emilie snatched up hers and took a few not-so lady-like gulps.

“You know the trick is to sip the wine,” Ben said, amused.

Emilie genuinely tried to return his smile, but even she knew that it looked forced. Upon seeing this, Ben’s brow furrowed.

“You’re uncomfortable,” he pointed out.  

“It’s a bit...fancier than what I’m used to. You didn’t have to do this.”

Ben shook his head, “Nonsense. I’m leaving for an entire month, and then my schedule from then on is very sporadic. You deserve this.” He finished with a smile, gently reaching for her hand.  The contact of his hand on hers made Emilie feel slightly better, and those adorable crinkles that always formed around his eyes when he smiled at her practically melted her into a puddle. 

 

The food was in fact delicious, and Emilie found that several glasses of wine made her feel as comfortable in this extravagant restaurant as she did in any diner or dive.  Conversations with Benedict also helped relax her, as always.

“So,” Benedict said, “what will you be doing while I’m away?”

“Probably catching up with my other boyfriends,” she replied with a wink, earning a deep chuckle from Benedict before continuing, “But seriously, just working. It’s the start of a new term so it should keep me plenty busy for a while.”

He nodded, “Good, whatever keeps you too busy for your other boyfriends.”

“They’ll be so disappointed,” she said.

Ben paused a moment, a small smile playing on his lips, “I love our witty banter.”

Emilie giggled and nodded, “Keeps things exciting, doesn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

 

 

When they finally finished their meal, both of them having had a good deal of wine, they exited the restaurant full of laughter and giddiness.  Even the crisp, drizzling evening didn’t dampen their mood as they tumbled into a taxi. When Benedict told the cabby the address to their destination, Emilie grinned at him.

“It’s still open?”

“When you make a reservation, which I have,” Ben smiled, before pulling her close to him for the duration of the ride.

 

At nighttime, the London skyline easily took Emilie’s breath away as she gazed upon it from their private car on the London Eye. She was having serious flashes of déjà vu as the lights gleamed up at her, filling her with the same adoration for the city she’d felt on her first day in London.

“Tonight was lovely,” she said, turning to plant a kiss on his lips. Ben smiled, resting his hands low on her hips. Even through the fabric of her dress, Emilie could feel the heat from his fingertips. The sensation sent shivers down her spine.

“I love when you wear heels. Having you at eye level lets me get a better look at your lovely face,” he said as he planted another soft kiss on her lips, “Plus I don’t have to reach as far to grab your bum.”

Emilie laughed, “Always a plus.”

They spent another half an hour admiring the skyline (and deciding against the champagne as two bottles of wine at dinner was plenty) before taking their leave. The cab ride was probably the most tension-filled twenty minutes Emilie had experienced in a long time, as they both struggled to keep their hands off one another.

It was no surprise then that as soon as they entered the building they were a jumbled mess of kissing and touching as they made their way up the steps. Even as Ben grabbed his keys to unlock the door, Emilie’s lips never left his neck, earning several deep groans from Ben just before he practically threw her over the threshold and lifted her onto the hallway table, slamming the door behind him.

“Ah, so we meet again,” she giggled as his fingers trailed up the inside of her thigh, inching the skirt of her dress higher and higher.

“Bit of a tradition now,” Ben said, cupping her bottom and expertly removing her undies, “Can’t break it, can we?”

“Certainly not.”

 

* * *

 

“Mmm, the hallway table is definitely in first place because of the nostalgia factor, but this couch is definitely in second place for the _opportunities_ it presents,” Emilie said, running her fingers up Ben’s bare chest. The couple was currently tangled around one another on his couch, a thin blanket thrown over them.

“Yes, I’d like to explore more of those _opportunities_ ,” Ben replied with a lazy smile.  He gently ran his hands down the creamy and soft skin of her waist, forgetting her extreme sensitivity until she gave a sudden jump.

“Ben!” she giggled softly.

“Oops...” he said. He laid his hand upon her should for another moment, before suddenly grabbing the sensitive skin on her ribcage. Emilie let out a squeal before trying to rip herself away from him. But he held her fast, moving his fingers along her sides, laughing as she squirmed beneath him.

“No! No! Please! Stop!” she cried, barely catching her breath. He paused, leaning back to allow her to sit up, her breathing leveling out.

“That,” Emilie drew in another deep breath, “was mean.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, leaning in to give her a kiss. Emilie made like she was going to kiss him back, but instead grabbed his shoulder and shoved him into the couch, making a break for it. She nearly made it to the bedroom before she felt Ben’s arms encircle her waist and toss her onto the bed. Once again she was beneath him, and he grinned mercilessly at her.

“You’re going to pay for that,” he teased, before once again tickling her, despite her pathetic, though gleeful gasps of “Please! Stop!”

She was laughing so hard she was sure her face must have been a brilliant shade pink by now.

And then she snorted, immediately covering her face in shock and embarrassment with her hands. Ben stopped, a surprised laugh coming from his mouth.

“ _That_ ,” he said, needing to catch his own breath, “was attractive.”

“No it wasn’t,” Emilie muttered from behind her hands. Ben’s own hands gently took hers, guiding them away from her face, still laughing lightly.

He grinned, any hesitation was long gone. This was the moment for him.

“Christ, I fucking love you.”

Emilie’s eyes widened, “Wait, _what?_ ”

“I love you, Em.”

“Really?”

His smile widened, and he gently cupped her face, running his thumb along her jaw, “With all my heart.”

Upon the admission, Emilie’s eyes filled with tears and she bit her lip. Ben’s smile did not falter, but she noticed he looked concerned.

“What is it?”

“I love you too,” she replied, cupping his face and crashing her lips to his. Their bodies pressed into one another, trying to make the space between them as little as possible, and their intentions simultaneously shifting to reaffirm those three little words they kept repeating to one another for the rest of the night.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is incredibly short, though I have already started the next one, and have the next several (and general plot line) laid out in my head. So here's hoping I get more done this week!

The next morning, Emilie was stirred by the sensation of Ben’s lips pressed on her forehead. Cracking one eye-lid, the room was dimly lit, indicating it was just before sunrise.  He was perched on the edge of the bed, freshly showered and clothed. It was with a sinking feeling that Emilie realized he was ready to leave for the airport.

“Mmm, don’t go,” she muttered sleepily.

Ben’s lips curled into a smile against her forehead. He pulled back to admire her, her face still sleepy and absolutely gorgeous in the waking light.

“That sounds tempting, but I really do have to go. I’ve got a long flight.”

“Okay,” Emilie said, moving to sit up and get dressed, but Ben put a hand on her naked shoulder.

“No, stay and sleep. Leave when you’re ready. I expect you’d be tired after last night,” he grinned.

“Stay? But you’ll be gone.”

Ben kept his grin, and reached into the drawer of his nightstand. Emilie raised her eyebrows as he pressed something into her hand. A key.

“I had your own copy made for you.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Use it whenever you like.”

Emilie opened her hand to examine the small silver key before looking up to Ben with a smile.

“Thank you.”

“You are quite welcome, my dear,” he replied before stretching his arm to glance at his watch. His face fell just slightly.

“I’ve really got to go.”

“Okay.”

“Promise you’ll stay and sleep?”

“Yes.”

Upon her assurance, Ben gave her another warm smile before cupping her face and pulling her into a long, sensual kiss that made her head spin. He rested his forehead against hers and his thumb traced her jawline.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He gave her another quick peck before standing, “I’ll call you when I land, okay?”

“Okay.”

Ben hovered in the doorway another moment, before bending down for another quick kiss (earning a stern but laughing “Go!” from Emilie) and finally walking briskly out of the room. A minute later, she heard the front door close with a soft click.

 

Emilie rested her head against the plush pillow, sincerely trying to fall back asleep. It proved fruitless however, so she sat up and reached for the key on the nightstand. She turned it in her fingers, slightly in disbelief that Benedict had actually given her a key to his place. In the last twelve hours, their relationship had taken yet another enormous leap forward.

_He loves me_

She felt like she had been waiting so long to hear those three words, and yet it had happened and she was still in disbelief. It felt like a dream. No, more like Hugh Grant’s story in _Love Actually_. She still remembered scoffing at the premise of the story when she’d first seen the movie.

_Shows me, doesn't it?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keys are a big deal.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie goes to brunch with Wanda, who sparks her interest in someone from Ben's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Over 100 kudos?! My heart is so happy :) Thanks so much for the support!
> 
> Another shorter one, but hey, I'm at least staying pretty consistent right? :) These more abbreviated chapters give me a lot less of a headache, which makes writing easier.

Emilie cleared her throat and smoothed her skirt again, shifting uncomfortably in her seat close to the window while she waited for Wanda to show at the cozy little café. The older woman had chosen the place for their brunch date; and had gone on about all the shopping they must do that afternoon together. Apparently Timothy "rarely let her out of the house to do any kind of browsing". Despite speaking on the phone several times in the weeks after their first meeting, she was still intimidated by the woman. She was nothing but kind to Emilie, yet Wanda Ventham had a spirited air about her that screamed she was a force to be reckoned with.

Emilie saw Wanda enter the café and glance around before the familiar blue eyes landed on her. She rose with a wave as the older woman made her way across the crowded space

“Emilie, dear, so good to see you,” she smiled, wrapping Emilie in a warm hug before the pair sat down in their seats.

“This place seems great, Wanda,” Emilie commented, glancing at menu.

“Oh it’s wonderful, Tim and I love to come here whenever we’re in the city.”

“Really? What would you recommend?”

“Oh, I could order for us both dear, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

Wanda was quite curious to know more about Emilie, so they spent much of their meal discussing her upbringing in Iowa. At the end Wanda convinced Emilie to have dessert, in exchange for more stories about Ben’s time at school.

“I can believe that,” Emilie snickered when Wanda told her about the countless number of times he was summoned to the headmaster’s office.

“Oh he was a nightmare to the teachers who couldn’t handle him, always making comments and jokes in the middle of classes.”

“How delightful,” she joked.

“It’s so wonderful that he’s found a bird like you dear. Someone who’s a teacher would certainly know how to handle children - if you don’t mind me saying so.”

_Ahh. There it is._

“Oh, well I suppose that’s true.”

“Benedict has been so broody, ever since he was a teenager. He loves children, you know.”  
“He’s talked about it a bit,” Emilie could feel her face growing hot.

“You two seem like an excellent match. Unlike that awful girl that toyed with him this last summer.”

Just as Emilie was about to comment and ask more about this ‘awful girl’, something out the window caught her eye. There, among the passersby on the street, was a man in non-descript clothing, holding a rather large camera.

And it was pointed right at them.

_Fuck_

Wanda must have noticed Emilie’s face and followed her eyes out the window. She sighed heavily and clicked her tongue.

“For goodness sake,” she said, motioning to their waitress to bring the check. She promptly paid, after threatening to toss Emilie’s wallet in the bin when she pulled hers out.

“Stay close dear, hopefully he’ll just be satisfied with some photos,” Wanda said, gently taking Emilie’s arm. Despite Emilie being a good six inches taller than her, she still felt protected.

Though it did little. Almost immediately upon exiting the café the man began walking the same direction, his shutter clicking away. Emilie could feel the tension in her chest rising as they walked down the street, Wanda shifting their positions so Emilie would walk the inside of the sidewalk.

“Let’s duck in here, shall we?” she asked, gesturing to a small bookshop.

They spent the next half-hour perusing the shelves of the little shop, hoping that by the time they exited they would be clear of any nosy photographers. The little side-trip proved successful for Emilie, as she found a copy of _Breakfast of Champions_ for Ben and a small anthology of American poetry. She’d been meaning to add onto the small book collection that she’d had her mother ship over, but work left little time for literary endeavors.

“Ben mentioned you were a book lover. I should give you some of mine, goodness knows I’ve got far too many to ever read in my lifetime.”

“That would be great, thank you.”

“Not a problem dear. Let’s see if that photographer has popped off then.”

When they initially glanced out of the shop, they didn’t see anyone lurking on the streets that looked like the man from before, so the pair figured they were in the clear.

They spent the entire afternoon dallying in the shops along the street, with Emilie being regaled by Wanda’s musings about her family. She learned about Ben’s stepsister, how Wanda and Timothy met, and all about the older woman’s work as an actress before deciding to settle down.

“I never thought I’d be married again, until Timothy.”

“You two are lovely together.”

“So are you and Benedict, I can tell he adores you.”

“I adore him too.”

“I haven’t seen him this happy for a long time. And after that wretched woman this summer...” Wanda trailed off, her fingers traveling over a rack of dresses in a small vintage boutique.

“This summer?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t gab about it. Suffice it to say that if anyone ever treats my boy the way she treated him, I shall turn absolutely monstrous,” she said, making eye contact with Emilie. This was not meant as a warning, but more about a mother expressing just how protective of her son she was. Emilie smiled with admiration for the older woman.

As they parted ways a little while later, with Wanda making Emilie promise more outings with one another, Emilie could not get her words out of her head. She desperately wanted to know about this woman from the summer.  Just how much of an impact did she have on Ben for his mother to be so hostile towards her? He’d mentioned his exes before, but even Anna and Olivia were on Wanda’s good side, as far as she could tell. Plus Ben had mentioned that it had been well over a year since he’d had an actual girlfriend.

Emilie sighed in frustration as she made her way to the tube station, not knowing the best way to find out what she wanted.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things that happen during Ben's absence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! I've returned with another chapter! Frankly I'm not totally happy with this, so theres a small chance I'll come back and chance some things. This is just a filler, with more cute little moments that happen whilst Ben is away (around Golden Globes time). I promise to get these next few chapters up ASAP. I have something big coming down the pipeline!

“I would love a picture of you in your sexy dress,” Ben purred over the line.

“If you're so lucky,” Emilie joked, finally getting the straps of the dress over her shoulders. Putting it on one-handed had proven to be incredibly difficult, considering its skin-tight material and the fact it was Molly’s, who was at least a size or two smaller than she.  The stockings she had put on earlier had done little to help her shimmy into the tight little number. She turned in the mirror, feeling pretty amazing and relieved the dress accentuated her curves instead of making her look... _blobby._

Tonight Emilie promised to go clubbing (she hated that word). Despite not really caring for loud, thumping music and not being able to walk freely through a bar without bumping into someone, Emilie figured she deserved a night out that would distract her from the fact that she missed Benedict like crazy.

 “You know, Karon tells me the press is still prying into you.”

That wasn’t a surprise. Emilie sighed, leaning back against the pillows on her bed, the dress she had chosen for the evening hiking up her thighs. The day after her and Wanda’s outing the photos from the street had popped up on a few gossip sites, along with some of the old photos of her and Benedict to ‘prove’ she was in fact _someone_ to him. Though one might argue that there were still some grounds for deniability; a personal assistant or distant cousin perhaps.  

“The whole ‘I’m not looking for a girlfriend’ dodging tactic isn’t working for you?”

He chuckled, “It’s still useful. Though I don’t know if their buying it anymore.”

“Let them snoop. There’s not much to know about me, if they can even figure out who I am. Barring any family or friends tell them information, that is.”

“There’s plenty to know about you,” Ben protested, “I love learning about you.”

“Oh _right_.”

 “No, seriously. I want to know more.”

“You already know a lot about me.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, then.”

“Okay,” Emilie paused, thinking.

“I’m deathly afraid of deep water.”

He laughed a little, “Really? How have I not learned this?”

“Yes, _really_ , and my biggest fear hasn’t exactly come up organically in our conversations.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone with that fear.”

“That you know of. Things like not being able to see or touch the bottom of a pool or lake puts me on edge. That combined with the fact I didn’t learn to swim until I was like eight probably just exacerbated things.”

“Wow. So no deep-sea diving for you then?”

“Nope. Your turn,” she said as she stood and crossed the room to check her makeup in the mirror above her dresser.

He paused for a moment.

“I know how to use chopsticks.”

“Yeah I know, because _I_ taught you.”

There was some hesitation, before he started laughing, “No, I knew before that. I just pretended that day.”

Emilie gasped, but then started to laugh, “You tit.”

“I know, but I loved being taught by you.”

“You’re going to pay for that.”

“Mmm. I certainly hope so.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Cumberbatch.”

They talked for a good hour before Benedict had to go and Molly began texting Emilie to ‘hurry the fuck up’. LA was just getting around to mid-afternoon, Karon having allotted some time in Ben’s schedule between interviews, suit fittings, and appearances to call Emilie.  But as always, their time had to come to an end, and Emilie became very eager to consume as much alcohol to numb the pang of loneliness that always crept into her chest each night.

 

 

Emilie could not remember the last time she had actually enjoyed a night out that involved deafening thumping music, people knocking her every which way on a crowded dance floor, and lighting so sporadic she was sure she would develop epilepsy by the end of the night.

But tonight she’d had a _great fucking_ time.

It had started off with the usual group of people that Molly hung around with, but as the night progressed, their little crowd had dwindled to just the two of them.

At that point, the rest of the night flew by, egged on by a series of “One more drink!” or “We can’t leave! I _love_ this song!” coming from one or both of the women.  

Soon, the pair found themselves in the back of a cab (Emilie being _astonished_ they could find one) babbling on about the men at the club.

“I think I’ll call Mark. He was the tall one right?” Molly slurred, scrolling through her phone.

“Yeah, but I think his name was Matt. Or...Mike. Was _he_ the tall one? I thought that was Paul...or Peter?”

“...Shit. I don’t know,” Molly replied, before both of them dissolved in giggles.

“So,” Molly said, wrapping her arm around Emilie, “what do you say we have a little fry up when we get home?”

“Mmm, I have to call Ben when we get back first.”

Molly shook her head, “More drinking _first_.”

 

 

A half an hour later and Emilie was certain one of their neighbors would be pounding on their door any second. But she was entirely too drunk to give a shit. Both women were donned in their sleeping clothes (yet they had no intentions of going to bed anytime soon) and were dancing and singing around in the kitchen, with grilled cheese (Emilie refused to call them cheese toasties) in the pan, while Neil Diamond played from their stereo. Both of their voices were probably horrific-sounding to any outsider, but again, she didn’t care. Or the alcohol didn’t let her.

“We should form a band,” Molly said, taking her sandwich from the pan and plopping it onto a plate.

“Mmm,” was all Emilie could say, as she was already two bites into her own sandwich.

She believed she had never had anything that had tasted this remotely amazing _in her entire life._ Both women abandoned even going into the living room, and instead opted to just eat right next to the stove.

“So,” Molly said between bites, “How’s Benny?”

“Good,” Emilie replied thickly, swallowing her bite, “Really busy in LA.”

“Have you figured out who that girl is?”

She shrugged. Truthfully, as much as it had bothered her when Wanda brought it up, she’d forced herself not to think about it. It wasn’t as though Ben had blatantly lied to her. They hadn’t really talked about past relationships since that one night a few months ago.

“I think I’ll just try and let it go.”

Molly pulled a face. Which, combined with the flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes, made Emilie burst out laughing.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“Well” she started, clearing her throat for good measure, “I don’t want to freak you out. But if his _mom_ hates the woman and knew about her, I’d probably want to know.”

Emilie considered it for a minute. She highly doubted Ben would tell his mother about every girl he met, so it might have been a bigger deal if Wanda had heard about it. She tried to wrack her brain for a name, but came up blank.

She shook her head (she regretted the motion immediately, though), “No. It’s none of my business. Besides, he doesn’t know _everything_ about me,” she said resolutely.

Molly shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she replied, mouth full of sandwich.

 

Benedict was startled out of his stupor by the sound of his mobile ringing from somewhere inside his room. Quickly crushing his cigarette and exiting the balcony, he followed the sound until he found it in his jacket.  A small smile formed on his lips as he read the caller ID.

“Hellooo,” Emilie chimed from the other end. The tone of her voice and her obvious drunkenness made Benedict grin. He checked his watch, mentally doing the math. In London it was well past closing time, and Emilie sounded pissed.

“Hello,” he purred, his chest filling with longing, “had a good night did we?”

She made a noise, like the sound someone makes when they're disappointed they’ve been found out, “How can you tell?”

“I just can,” Ben replied.

There was a rustling sound, as though she was setting into her bed.

“So, did you get a lot of numbers?” He asked. Although he was joking, the thought of Emilie surrounded by other men vying for her attention made a small flare of jealousy erupt in his stomach.

“Of _course_ ’not. I actually used your line. I told them I wasn’t looking for _anything at the moment_ ,” she mimicked the last few words in his voice.

“See? It comes in handy, doesn’t it?”

“Mmm’hmm. Yes, you were right.”

At that moment, there was a knock on Benedict’s door, quickly followed by his personal assistant Emily walking into his room, mouthing ‘sorry!’  She held up a printed itinerary for the next day. Benedict tried to hurry her along as best she could without being short. When she left, he immediately refocused his attention.

“Sorry, just confirming my schedule for tomorrow.”

He paused, and there was nothing.

“Em?”

Still nothing, until he heard a small, breathy sigh that signaled Emilie’s departure from consciousness. He was all too familiar with the noises she made while she slept. He desperately wished he could be there with her, as he greatly missed having her next to him at nighttime.

“ _I love you_ ,” he whispered into the phone, before hesitantly hanging up.

 

Much later that night (morning for her, presumably when she had woken up in London, and he finally made it back to his hotel) he received a string of apologetic texts.

 

**_I’m so sorry! Please forgive me for being so rude :(_ **

**_To make up for my lack of manners, I thought you ought to know I forgot to wear pants to bed._ **

**_And a bra._ **

The mental image made Benedict groan and resign to the fact that he probably wouldn’t be sleeping very well that night. He quickly texted her back.

 

_I am instituting a dress code for my bedroom: Exactly what you just described. Effective the minute I’m I touch down._

She didn’t text back for a while, and Benedict had fallen asleep by the time he heard his text alert go off.  He hazily pressed the ‘open’ button, his eyes hardly focused. When the attachment loaded, however, he was suddenly wide awake. It was a picture of Emilie’s bare (and wonderfully shapely) legs, tangled up in his sheets, just barely showing the unmistakable edge of her underwear, with the words:

 

**_Already beat you to it._ **

 

“Fuck,” he mumbled. The next two weeks would be... _difficult._

...

 

“Big day tomorrow?” Emilie asked a week later.

 “Oh, the best. Interviews and appearances. Dinner with producers tonight,” he said dryly.

“Have you at least gone to a beach yet? Gone swimming?”

“I have, though not as much as I’d like,” he leaned back in the chair, giving his weary eyes a rub, “Don’t worry, no deep water.”

He heard her huff, knowing she was rolling her eyes.

“Oh shut it, you.”

“I’m starting to want you to make me.”

“You know, you’ve racked up quite the list since you’ve been out there, Cumberbatch.”

“Who says I’m not doing it on purpose?” He leaned forward now, a smile playing on his lips.

“You know, that means your punishment will be more severe.”

“I’ll take it as long as you're dressed as a school teacher.” The image sent immediate electricity shooting down his body.

“I _am_ a teacher, so technically I’m _always_ dressed like one,” Emilie said with a little giggle at her own cleverness.

“You know what I mean.”

“What is this fascination for school teachers? Did you spend a lot of time flirting with teachers growing up? Was there a special night at Harrow you still think about from time to time?”

“Sadly, the attractiveness of the staff at Harrow was not a central feature,” he replied, faking sadness.

“Wow, how sad for you.”

“So, does this mean _you_ fancied your teachers?”

There was a slight pause, and Benedict heard her shift again, “Well sure, yeah.”

“Embarrassed are we?”

“No!” she replied a little too quickly.

Ben laughed, “So you _did_ fancy your teachers?”

He heard her shift in her bed; probably rolling around in her sheets.

“I _already_ said yes.”

He caught the shortness in her tone, an obvious sign that she was ready to drop it. Her reactions made Benedict all the more curious.

“I can’t imagine you having a school girl crush, I feel like you’re the type to be completely above all of that.”

“Yeah. Well, it was a long time ago.”

Another pause. Only this time he could practically hear her wishing for him to change the subject. Benedict decided to let it go, for now.

“You know, I was hoping for more photos...” he trailed off, a racy mental image floating to the forefront of his brain.

“Oops, sorry. I’m all snuggled in my bed now though.”

“Still sexy. Are you at my flat?”

“No, I had dinner with Molly which turned into a glass of wine while watching telly and then I just couldn’t muster the strength.”

“That sounds productive.”

“The grilled cheese we made for dinner were excellent, so kind of, yes.”

“Cheese toasties,” he corrected.

“Mmm, whatever they are, they’re heaven. Especially when I make  ‘em.”

“You should make one for me when I’m home.”

“Really? A grilled cheese? For your _refined_ palate?”

“Hey now, I’m a normal bloke, I enjoy a cheese toasty _,_ ” he defended.

“Right, _a normal bloke_. Whose face just so happens to be plastered almost everywhere on the planet. Whose name sends screams emerging from a crowd of otherwise reasonable women.”

He chuckled, “What’s your point?”

Emilie paused before laughing at herself, “I don’t know where I was going with that. I’m tired.”

“Go to sleep then, and I think what you were trying to say is you have a fantastic boyfriend.”

“That’s a bit of a reach.”

“Ouch.”

“I’m only kidding.”

“Mmm, you’ll pay for that.”

“When?”

“Three days, love.”

“Not soon enough.”

“I know. Speaking of though, an old friend has asked me to dinner when I’m back, and he’d loved for you to join us.”

“Really? Who?”

“Tom. He’s a great bloke, and he’s been shaming me because I haven’t introduced you.”

“Well, sure. That’d be great.”

“Thank you. Now…I think we need to plan for the night I’m back.”

Emilie laughed, “You’re going to just have to keep that night free, _I am going to destroy you_.”

Benedict was a little taken aback, but it made him laugh, “Are you sure? Because I think I might just shag you into oblivion.”

“If we even make it there. I’m still all about your couch. I’ve been taking a lot of naps on it lately.”

“ _Naked_ naps?”

“No. I have to have _some_ decency once in a while.”

“That won’t do when we’re in my apartment. Don't forget the 'no clothing rule' is in effect the second I'm back.”

There was a short pause in which he could hear her move around, then she giggled mischievously , "Well, now, I already beat you to it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading!!!I appreciate the support despite my absences!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well HI!  
> Wowza so much has happened in the last five months I've away! I'll keep plugging away on this despite recent developments :)  
> This one's very fluffy.

Emilie gazed through the window, peering down at the wet London street below Benedict’s flat. She sipped her coffee, enjoying how it warmed her body. She watched the rare passerby through the branches of the trees that lined the street. It was still early, and the dreariness of the morning did not lend itself to good strolling weather.  
After a month of separation, the final hours before Benedict would finally be home seemed to slow to a crawl. She had woken up at an offensively early hour (like a child on Christmas) after a restless night of sleep at his flat.   
As she nursed her mug of coffee she tried to put a plan together for the day to keep her busy until Benedict’s arrival that evening. She figured he’d probably appreciate a tidy home, so she could start with changing the bed sheets. Those would probably get the most use in the next several days.  
The last thought made Emilie smirk.

Who am I kidding? This whole place is going to see a lot of mileage. She glanced over her shoulder at the entryway, sighing at the sight of her favorite side table.

 

Ten. Ten fifteen. Ten thirty. Ten forty-five. Ben’s flight was supposed to get in over an hour ago, and he still had not texted or called. She had tried his mobile a few times, but was greeted with his voicemail each time. It wasn’t a bad consolation prize, but still.  
Emilie stretched out on the couch, bringing her wine glass to her lips. She’d picked up a bottle for them to share, but she couldn’t wait, figuring a little dose of alcohol might help make the time pass. It was already half gone. Oops.  
It did little to help push time forward, instead making her feel sleepy and all too aware of just how comfortable the couch was. Like the entire apartment, it had Benedict’s signature scent, and she let out a happy sigh as wrapped herself in a blanket and nestled deep into the cushions.

 

Benedict rubbed his weary eyes, letting his head rest in the back seat of the car and watching the London streets pass by. The flight itself had been fine, but their take-off had been delayed and customs had taken an obnoxiously long time. He had found it incredibly difficult not to lose his temper, what with the slow moving lines at security and the people “not” taking photos of him. But he persevered, knowing that Emilie would be waiting at home. He tried to check his phone, momentarily forgetting it had died shortly before take-off.   
The ride home seemed to take longer than it ever had. But eventually the car did pull up to his building, and the driver helped him with his luggage. Benedict tried not to rush too much to avoid seeming pushy, but he honestly could have gotten the bags himself and the man was a little slow moving. He glanced up, noticing a few lights on in his flat. 

Even through his jet lag and overall exhaustion, Benedict found himself swimming in excitement as he dragged his things upstairs. He couldn’t wait to see Emilie, to hold her, to touch her. He really hoped she didn’t have plans too early the next morning.

The first thing he noticed when he swung open the door was that there was silence. Emilie didn’t call out for him, nor was there the noise of his TV. He had at least been expecting something. He dropped his things in the entryway and made his way down the hall. It took all of two seconds for his gaze to zero in on the still lump curled up on his couch. 

He honestly didn’t know what he had been expecting. Lingerie? Her naked body? Instead all Ben could make out of Emilie was her head, which poked out from the blanket that encompassed her sleeping form. With a smile, he slowly crossed the room, admiring how peaceful she looked when she slept.   
Although one could probably guess the half empty wine bottle contributed to that. 

Carefully, he leaned over her body, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Nothing. He had expected her to stir. He leaned down again, kissing her cheek. This time she extracted one of her hands from the blanket and swatted at her face. 

Really?

Ben decided on a new approach. Her now freed arm and the tilt of her head left Emilie’s neck exposed. Carefully, Ben lowered his lips to her shoulder, pressing kisses into the soft skin, inhaling deeply and taking in the scent that he’d ached to take in for so long. 

If this didn’t work, he seriously considered just shaking the woman awake.

As he ventured to her collarbone, Emilie finally responded with little sighs before she stirred. Ben paused as her eyes fluttered open, focusing on his face. 

“Hi.” The sleepy word caused his smile to grow wider as she reached a hand up to his face. God, he’d missed her touch. Slowly he bent down and placed a gentle kiss on her mouth. Emilie moaned into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and gently tugging him down closer to her, so that Benedict had to carefully climb on top of her. Most of her body was still wrapped in the blanket, but she still managed to press herself against him.  
He knew where this was heading, so he paused, drawing back to look at her. She looked so beautiful; the dim lamp put her face into a delicate light, and her still-bleary eyes were bright as she grinned up at him with the cheeky smile that always seemed to appear before they had sex.   
“Should we move this into the bedroom?” Ben asked softly.  
“Why?” She asked innocently, pulling his lips to her own again.

 

 

“Hiya!” Emilie called out as she entered his flat the next afternoon. After staying up late the previous night and getting a jump (on each other) for the majority of the morning, Emilie had to go home and get a change of clothes. Rumpled, sexed up clothing (and hair) might not make the greatest impression with Tom.   
“In here,” Ben’s voice called from the living room. Upon entering she immediately noticed a neatly wrapped package taking up a good portion of the coffee table, with Benedict smiling at her from the couch.  
“I got you something,” he said, springing to his feet excitedly, gesturing for her to sit.  
“What is it?”  
“Open and see.”  
She carefully ran her fingers along the edge of the paper, gently taking apart the wrapping. She opened the cardboard box, and peered inside for a beat before she looked up at Benedict, who was still grinning at her.  
“It’s a…um…a drawer?”  
“Yep.”  
She gently lifted the drawer out of the box and immediately recognized it.  
“It’s from your dresser.”  
“My dresser, but your drawer.”  
Emilie stared at the drawer before a slow smile spread across her face.  
“You’re giving me a drawer?”  
“And I made space in my closet, and you have a drawer in the bathroom.”  
A rush of affection made Emilie feel tears begin to prick the back of her eyes. Blinking rapidly, she stood and pulled Benedict towards her, kissing him full on the lips.   
When they finally came up for air, she was smirking at him.  
“What is it?”  
“I can’t believe you took a drawer from your dresser and wrapped it.”  
“I thought it made a better impact,” he said smoothly before scooping her up in his arms, and carrying her towards the bedroom.  
“Shouldn’t we take the drawer?”  
“Later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I keep saying this, but I will make a better effort to update in shorter spurts. I wont lie, I've lost a lot of motivation.


End file.
